


Arena

by Scribe32oz



Series: Seven Scrolls [26]
Category: The Magnificent Seven (TV)
Genre: Angst, Brotherhood, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Drug Addiction, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Ensemble Cast, F/M, Male Friendship, Novella, Rape/Non-con Elements, Series, Strong Female Characters, Violence, Western
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 19:12:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 10
Words: 91,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12918402
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Scribe32oz/pseuds/Scribe32oz
Summary: Chris Larabee is missing. As the search begins to find their lost comrade, the rest of the seven are given a glimpse into the dark mirror of his soul and the demons waiting in the black to be unleashed by an enemy the likes of which they had never known.





	1. Defining Moments

There are moments of clarity in ones life that define everything a person will ever be.

For Laurel Chase that moment had come when she was ten years old.

The venue for her divine revelation occurred, oddly enough in the most unlikely of places, the schoolyard in Philadelphia where she would spent the first eighteen years of her life. Until then, she had adults make mention of it and had listened to the other girls whisper unkindly about it behind her back. She had never understood in the beginning why they would do that, why they would refuse to allow her into their games and ensured that she knew that there was something about her that threatened them. It confused her just as much as the hungry stares of young boys who had no idea what so mesmerising but were still slave to the yearning nonetheless.

However, at the age of ten it became all clear to her.

A veil had lifted from her eyes and the light of understanding came to her in what could only be called a religious experience that explain to her what the rest of her life would be in that one second. As she watched Tommy Wallace and Russell Townsend rolling in the dirt, fighting for the privilege of walking her home, Laurel realised what it was she possessed that made the other girls so jealous with craving, so utterly envious that they could only tolerate her presence with scorn. What she would always have that was capable of giving her the kind of power women dreamed of from the moment that they first discovered their reflection in the mirror.

Her lineage was nothing extraordinary although in later years, she would tell people that her mother was an exiled Russian Empress and her father, a deposed warrior. The tales would get more fanciful as time wore on and as the face that became everything she was, negated the desire by anyone to learn the truth, Laurel actually began to believe a little of the lie herself. However, the fabrication of her past was as much illusion as she allowed herself because had she been merely beautiful, she would have hardly been memorable. However, she was not simply beautiful, she was intelligent and with an intellect that was formidable to say the least and utterly self-serving.

In truth, her father had been a bookkeeper and her mother a seamstress, hardly the stuff of legend that little girls liked to construct in their fairy tale world in the clouds. Both were hard working Christian folk who attempted in their way to instil her with good values even though she could not imagine how she had come from them because there was nothing of the stunning beauty in them that everyone else saw in her. Until that day in the school yard, Laurel had not thought much of her features and had gone through her days confused at the hostility received by girls her age and adoration from the boys. When she learnt how easily manipulated the male of species could be, she lost interest in them rather quickly and soon boys did not impress as much as men.

By the time she was thirteen, Laurel knew she that she could manipulate men as easily as she could use boys. With dark coloured hair that sheeny to the touch, she had been described in later years by one lover as having the face of an angel and a body made for sin. With emerald coloured eyes and full lips, she shook the resolve of every man she encountered and was particularly chagrined when she could not. Those she could not acquire she went out and took, as if an unseen gauntlet had been dropped whenever she was refused.

By the time she was fourteen years old, her schoolmaster had become her first lover and there she discovered just how power she truly had at her fingertips. He not only became her teacher in that most primeval of arts but he opened the possibility of what her mind was capable of conjuring without any aid from her body. She discovered an affinity of the sciences for she possessed a remarkably logical mind, a by-product of her calculating manner. With an appetite for learning that was almost as insatiable as her need for sexual conquest, she found that the world of chemistry, physics, biology and other sciences were almost as easy to understand as it was for her to keep the men in her stable pliable.

Her parents suspected nothing and indulged the desire for an education even though it was always assumed that like any respectable young woman, she would tire of it by the time she reached a marriageable age. Of course, their expectation for the kind of suitor she would attract was higher than one would normally expect of a working class family but Laurel was no ordinary beauty and it was always expected by those around her that she would marry well.

She had no intention of letting them think that she had plans of her own and sought to disappear when the time was right. While her father was not exactly a man of means, he had squirreled away a stipend, which was invested wisely and soon amounted to a delightful sum of 50,000 dollars. Unfortunately, she was to learn that the princely sum was being held in anticipation of her future marriage and would never be hers to control. By the age of seventeen, she was dreading the moment when suitors would come calling at her door.

Unknown to her parents, she had written to the Emma Willard Academy in New York, one of the few colleges in the continental United States that offered college level education for young women and was ecstatic when she was accepted with a place waiting for her. However, her parents were not prepared to send her there, believing that it was a waste of time when she should be thinking about marriage, not an education. For the first time in her life, Laurel found that it was time she discarded those who were a liability in her life and it surprised her how truly easy it had been. All it had taken was a whisper in the right ear and by morning, she stood with the rest of her neighbours as she watched the house that had been home all her life burn to the ground with her parents in it.

The money that was held in trust for her marriage was soon hers to do with when she seduced the lawyer who had been left to execute it and then blackmailed him into complacency by threatening to expose him to his wife. Before the ashes of her parents had even grown cold, Laurel Chase was on her way to New York to begin her first year at the Emma Willard Academy for young ladies. Once there, she excelled as she knew she would, graduating as its valedictorian at the end of her tenure and deciding that she had no taste for school teaching since that was the best an educated woman could hope for.

For a time, she wandered aimlessly, having no outlet for her genius even though it waited in the depths of her like a snake coiled patiently in tall grass, waiting for the foot that would provoke it into being. She travelled extensively, allowing her inheritance to dwindle into nothingness, refusing to allow the lack of funds to reduce her to panic for she was never a woman who would be in dire circumstances. There was always a man who was a willing savant to her needs both financial and occasionally sexually. She enjoyed her relationships with them and was of the belief that they were terribly misguided creatures.

  
They seemed to have this incredible arrogance which gave them the audacity to claim that the female of the species was emotionally weaker when they could be guided by their baser instincts to commit the most ludicrous of acts. While she enjoyed her encounters with men and found pleasure with them, there had not been one she had encountered yet that gave her any indication that men had a right to call themselves masters of the earth. Nor did she equate love with sex. She had no difficulty discarding a tantalising lover if he became  _inconvenient_.

Laurel was travelling in the west when she had another one of those defining moments almost as clear as the one she had in that school yard so many years ago. It had been the same thing as watching little Tommy who ended up marrying some dour face girl and becoming a baker just like his father and Russell who ran off to join the war even though he was too young and got his stupid self killed at Bull Run. Two men had been fighting on the street, beating each other senseless with bloody knuckles and teeth bared, determined to show everyone that he was better than the other.

Laurel had watched with just as much fascination, the crowd who were witnessed to this spectacle and how they relished the opportunity to show their lust for blood, unhampered by confining thoughts of morality. They cheered with each blow struck, with every tear of skin and with each spurt of viscous blood as if it was a streamer to be carried in a parade. It was barbaric and it was just as captivating for man as it was for woman, although personally Laurel saw nothing compelling about it. When the fight had come to an end with both men still standing but exhausted, she realised something even far more profound.

  
There was no satisfaction in a fight halted before death.

The crowd was disappointed. They wanted to see one man down, not a fight ended before the natural conclusion had been reached. They wanted to see pain, blood and smell victory, not the hollowed version of boxing matches and legal competition but the true brutal product borne of Cain that would mark him forever. They wanted to see that most brutal of battles, the one from which all others began and they would pay anything for it.

Of course men were not as willing as they were in those early dark days of mankind to fight for no reason and to see it through to its bloody end. Ten thousand years of civilisation had stripped the beast from the man and left him a creature of reason; powerless and robbed of everything that had made his climb the evolutionary ladder as the true king of the beasts.

Man  _was_  the lion.

The memory of that primitive past was hidden beneath a veneer of reason and civilisation that had to be stripped for the power of him to surface once again. She had seen men fight for a woman but even the need for sex could not outweigh the desire to survive. No, if there was a way to reach that part of him, it was not though the womanly arts. What was needed was something special.

Something that was capable of reminding him of who he was in one simple application.

Laurel spent the next year after that discovery, finding that very something. At times, she thought that perhaps her ambition had outweighed her each but stubbornness refused to make her give up. She had any number of volunteers who were willing to play her guinea pigs, all she had to do was promise them a taste of her flesh and they would do anything for her almost as willingly as the task she was attempting to accomplish.

Eventually she succeeded, there was never any doubt that she would not and with that success, Laurel Chase gave life to the Arena.


	2. Acquisition

 

Vin Tanner did not like Vesta City much.

It was a dry, dusty old place well on its way to becoming one of those towns that would be forgotten with the coming of the railroad. He watched the wind blown streets and knew that the dust storm that had come from the desert would be here to stay for at least a day or two. He remained seated on the front steps leading to the boardwalk in front of the saloon, watching the streets for people passing by for the lack of anything better to do. He glanced at the courthouse across the street and so no signs of life except for the occasional citizen of Vesta City who was walking past the sturdy wooden doors.

Vin did not expect to be waiting long and knew that if he wanted to return to Four Corners, Chris Larabee would allow him to do so. However, Vin knew that leaving Chris’ side was not an option. Their relationship was such that it was impossible for Vin to imagine himself anywhere but at the gunslinger’s side, covering his back in a fight. He did not understand the feeling that bound him to Chris; not from the very first moment they had looked across the street and made that silent agreement to save Nathan Jackson’s life. Even his wife Alex, understood that there were some things about him that he would not give up for anyone, not even her and that specifically meant his friendship with Chris Larabee.

Besides, Chris was no happier to be in Vesta City than he was, which was why Vin had offered to come with him. With Mary being weeks away from giving birth to their first child together, Chris was not at all happy to be away from her at this time. It was entirely possible that she could deliver any moment despite Alex’s projection of her delivery being weeks away. When Elena Rose had been born, the little girl had not arrived when anticipated and had the misfortune to be born in the back of a wagon following her parents escape from a homicidal Don.

Hopefully, this birth would not be as eventful.

Unfortunately, Chris had little choice but to be in Vesta City because he was required to testify in the proceeding against one Peter Robertson, better known as Smiling Pete a notorious outlaw who had killed a number of people and robbed a bank in Vesta City. Chris had been responsible for capturing him when Pete had come through Four Corners but since the majority of his crimes had taken place in this community, Judge Orin Travis decided to hold the trial here instead of Four Corners.

Orin, who was just as aware of Mary’s condition, being the lady’s father in law and grandfather to Billy, had assured them that they would be here for no more than a day and already it felt much longer than that. Vin disliked this town because he remembered the circumstances the last time he had been this way. In a convent not far from the outskirts of town, was Josiah Sanchez’s deranged sister who was being tended to by the nuns who occupied the place. Vin had come here seeking aid for Josiah when Silas Poplar, a Pinkerton detective had accused the former preacher of murder. Vin had hoped that Josiah’s mysterious trips here could provide him with an alibi and only succeeded in uncovering a very painful secret in Josiah’s life.

Even though it was probably wise to get indoors, Vin preferred to remain out in the open and continued to sit patiently at the steps while waiting for Chris to finish up what he was doing. His attention was momentarily distracted when he suddenly saw the arrival of the stage into town. Vesta City was a large enough to warrant a stage stop but Vin had a feeling that this was a premature visit. Judging by the state of the horses and the driver, the desert storm had become too much for both and no doubt this was an unscheduled stop to escape the bad weather.

He saw the stagecoach driver climb down from his perch at the top of the stage before going to the passenger compartment where he no doubt explained to those inside that they would be taking a break from the weather. Vin watched the proceedings mostly because he was bored and there was not much else to do. After a moment, the stagecoach driver pulled open the door and two individuals stepped out of the carriage.

The first was a bear of a man, stocky in size with thick muscles and a thin drooping moustache whose ends came all the way down to his neck. Wearing a suit like any white man, Vin was surprised to see that he was Chinese and did not fancy getting into an argument with someone built that way. The thickness of his arms indicated that he would have no trouble snapping a man in half if he felt so inclined. He was dressed in a black suit and cast his gaze about the place, taking stock of everyone about before he extended his hand.

The woman he emerged was without doubt the most beautiful woman Vin had ever seen in his life. While seeing her was not the same as seeing Alex for the first time because that had been an emotional experience where he had recognised instantly that they were soul mates and that he was in love with her from the first moment, this was what entirely different. Vin could only call his reaction to be one of lust, utterly and purely naked lust. This was the kind of woman that you simply wanted to pleasure and nothing else. Vin found himself turning red with embarrassment as rather unsavoury thoughts crossed his mind and he had to remind himself, quite pointedly that he was just married and had no business thinking what he had just been.

She had the same effect on him as every person she came across as she glided towards the hotel in her finery that indicated that this was a woman of privilege. Mahogany coloured hair was worn up, revealing the promise of alabaster skin and a face that could only be described as carved from fine marble. Every man who saw her paused and looked, much to the annoyance of the women some of them were with. Vin found himself watching her with his mouth open until she disappeared from sight and felt the need to go home to Alex more profoundly than ever. When she was finally out of his sight, the tracker shook his head in disbelief at his reaction

_ What the hell was that about? _

Vin found himself taking a deep breath when she was gone from sight unable to believe that he had been so enamoured by a woman other than Alex and suddenly decided he had to go buy something for his wife immediately. Stuffing his fingers in his pockets, he decided that whatever it was, it was going to have to be expensive.

* * *

"That’s real nice," Chris Larabee commented as he looked at the brooch that Vin had purchased while he had been giving his testimony in court. He looked at the jewellery with its intricate design and had to commend the tracker for his choice. The colour would definitely sit well against his wife’s exotic colouredskin.

"So what’s the occasion?" Chris asked as they shared a drink in the saloon when they had met up again. It was evening and was much too late to make the trip back to Four Corners tonight even though Chris would have liked to have gotten going as soon as possible. He had no wish to be absent if Mary should suddenly go into labour. He had almost missed Adam’s birth when Sarah had gone into labour because he had been away and he was certainly not allowing a repeat of that by being absent when he could help it.

"No occasion." Vin cleared his throat and picked up his mug of beer and took a nervous sip.

Chris had been married long enough to know that look very well and had on occasion been forced to experience it himself. With a smug smile, the gunslinger eased into his chair and regarded his younger friend. "Okay pard, what did you do?"

"Do?" Vin looked at him. "I didn’t do nothing." There was just enough defensiveness in his voice to tell Chris otherwise.

"Vin," Chris looked at him as if he were a child who needed the facts of life explained to. "There’s two reasons a man buys something for a woman. One because its a special occasion and two, because he’s done something wrong. Now I know it ain’t your anniversary since you both ain’t even been married a month and if it was Alex’s birthday you would have said something before this so that only leaves number two. So come on, what did you do?" Chris replied taking some perverse pleasure in Vin’s discomfiture and was not about to let Vin squirm out of this.

Besides, a man had to find some things to amuse himself.

"There was this woman....."

Chris was about to take a sip of his own beer and had to pause at that remark, his surprise showing.

"It ain’t nothing like that!" Vin retorted when he saw Chris’ expression and scrambled to explain before Chris got the wrong idea. "I ain’t never seen a woman like this. It was the kind you just want to just....."

"I get the idea." Chris stopped Vin from continuing, needing no further clarification and found himself choking back his need to laugh out loud because Vin would probably slug him if he did. "So you were checking out a piece of tail and felt so guilty that you had to go buy something for your wife?" Chris asked, trying to stifle the snigger that was threatening to escape from him.

"Something like that." Vin grumbled, hating that his actions were so transparent and completely forgetting that it was not so much transparency as it personal experience.

"She must have been something." Chris remarked with a smile.

"I ain’t never seen anything like her." Vin had to confess. "If Buck was here, we’d have to nail him to the floor."

"That ain’t saying much when we’re talking about Buck." Chris responded knowing his old friend was not particularly discriminate when it came to the kind of women he liked but then with Buck it was not all about appearances.

"True," Vin agreed and decided to change the subject since he felt bad enough as it is for admiring the lady in question without having to keep her on his mind by talking about it as well. Moving to a safer topic, he spoke after a moment. "Reckon we’ll get moving in the morning?"

Chris aware that Vin was uncomfortable at having been attracted to another woman when he had was just a newly wed. He smiled inwardly, thinking how well marriage suited the tracker even if the younger man did not know it. While he might have been caught admiring another woman, there was no doubt in his mind that Alex was the only woman that Vin had truly loved, not even Charlotte had made Vin as happy as Chris had seen him in the presence of the lady doctor.

"Yeah," Chris nodded answering Vin’s question, "don’t look like the Judge is gonna need any more testimony about Pete. Besides, he knows I got to get home. With the baby turning up any time soon, he knows I don’t want to be away from town for too long."

"Things has sure changed haven’t they?" Vin said introspectively as he gazed at the brooch in his hand and everything that it meant to his life.

"They have," Chris agreed, understanding perfectly what the tracker was talking about. It seems like only yesterday that he had ridden into Four Corners, hoping for the bullet that would send him to Sarah and Adam. He had never expected salvation to be waiting for him in that dusty town in the form of seven men and a woman with eyes like a dove. "I thought I’d be dead by now, not married with a baby on the way."

"I never expected to be married, was sure at one point, they was going hang me." He confessed. "Didn’t think I’d be married no lady either, especially a doctor."

"Well there ain’t many men who could say they landed a doctor." Chris gave him a teasing look and caused Vin to throw beer nuts in his direction.

"Or a newspaper editor." Vin pointed out, tit for tat. "We sure had us some interesting times and it still ain’t over yet, even though we are all nice and settled in."

"Trouble seems to have our number pard," Chris commented. It seemed that domestic life was merely a reward for all the danger their lives seemed to attract. Not that Chris minded to tell the truth, he liked the excitement and the hard edge of his existence that kept his senses alert and always sharpened.

"Its been good knowing you pard," Chris suddenly found himself saying to the tracker, unaware whether it was the beer talking or simply the atmosphere of reflection that had descended upon them. His camaraderie with Vin had been the impetus, which opened up the rest of his heart. Sharing a friendship with the young tracker, caring about someone else had made him accessible to the others and prepared him for Mary. Chris wondered if Vin knew just how much his friendship really meant to him.

"Same here Chris," Vin replied, swallowing the lump that formed in his throat whenever he was called to discuss something so personal with anyone other than Alex. With her it was easy because she knew him so intimately and words were not usually needed with Chris. A slight tip of a hat, a gentle nod of acknowledgment, that was all that was required. It was somewhat disconcerting to hear Chris say how he felt out loud.

"They say the restaurant in town has got a pretty decent cook." Vin suggested. "I’m buying if you keep it yourself why I bought this thing." He joked as he tucked the brooch into the buckskin jacket.

"Sure." Chris grinned as he drained the last of his beer and followed Vin as they left the saloon.

* * *

"How long before we leave this god forsaken place?" Laurel Chase said to her trusted companion Mr Zhang.

"The driver tells me tomorrow morning." Zhang replied shortly as he escorted his employer across the street from the hotel to the only restaurant in this town. Although he was a big man, he was not very tall and matched her height as he walked alongside of her, cautiously keeping an eye out for trouble.

"I suppose it will have to do," she remarked, her gaze sweeping across the street and not very impressed at having to remain in this rather depressing community any more than she had to. The territory was virgin lands as far as opportunity was concerned and an ideal location for her business pursuits but it was a crude and rustic environment, suited only to people who wanted to smell like cornfields and animal manure. In the little enclave where she had built her kingdom, she had thankfully brought some measure of civilisation to her existence and was eager to return there once again.

"This trip has been far from fruitful." She muttered as they stepped onto the wooden boardwalk. "We need something special for the masses if we are to bring in the numbers and I am afraid pickings have been lean."

"The men that you require will not be found easily, my Lady." Zhang answered. "They usually lie in wait in the most unexpected places, waiting to be seen."

"A diamond in the rough you mean," Laurel said with a smile. Zhang had been her trusted companion ever since she found him in that jail in San Francisco. He had spent most of his life playing muscle to the Chinese gangsters who ran supreme in the town that was fast becoming the enclave of western Orientals. Upon securing his release, Laurel had liberated him from the employ of his masters and started him working for her. Zhang who considered himself the devoted servant of a great lady had been worth every cent she had paid to have him released into her custody. She knew without doubt or having to use her considerable charms that he would die for her if it was required.

"However, we need more than just a diamond." She mused. "What we need is a force of a nature, one that will hold the crowd, one that will not only make them want to see him spill blood but also want him to win more than anything else. Find someone that stops the heart of every person watching and we will make a fortune."

"I do not think you will find such a man here." Zhang pointed out, casting another look at the town and seeing nothing extraordinary emerging from this place with its signs swaying in the wind, the worn look of all the buildings and the people who seemed in a similar state of the gloom.

Laurel was almost ready to believe Zhang when suddenly she saw  _him_.

If it was possible for a man to make her breath catch, the blond god who stepped out of the saloon, with a long black duster billowing in the wind and the equally black hat perched on his brow, accomplished that quite easily. Laurel had never seen a man ooze pure sex and magnetism the way he managed as he surveyed the street upon coming out into the open. His gaze studied his surroundings with calm deliberation and she knew that he was taking note of everything in the street, filing it away from future reference. As he started walking towards the same restaurant that she and Zhang were heading for with his younger companion, Laurel watched him closely, unable to believe her incredible luck at finding him.

He moved like a predator.

His entire body was sinew and lean muscle, perfect in everyway and yet his movements were quiet and stealthy. Instinctively, she knew his was the manner of someone who was used to the hunt as well as being in charge of everything that transpired in his life. She watched him walk and knew in an instant just what made him tick. There was pain buried deep inside of him and the pain had given him an edge that most men could not ever dream of possessing. The eyes which were meant to the windows to the soul told her nothing and that in itself, told her everything as well.

"Him." She said quietly, nodding slightly in his direction.

Zhang observed her choice and had to admit there was potential there. Her desired acquisition looked formidable. The people who saw him and his friend gave them both a wide berth and though he did nothing to indicate it, they knew he was dangerous by the sheer emanation of his commanding presence.

"I will make the arrangements." He replied automatically.

"Not yet." Laurel retorted, not about to waste her time no matter how magnetic he seemed. "I want to see if the reality is as promising as the package. You know what to do. If he is as interesting as I think he will be, then you can proceed with the rest."

* * *

"There she is." Vin pointed out when the lady walked into the restaurant and captured the attention of every man in the place including that of Chris Larabee’s. Eyes immediately shifted in her direction as she entered the room, wearing a dress of sapphire silk that seemed to accentuate every curve in her figure while she seemed completely oblivious to the attention as she glided towards her table and sat down. The woman was alone and just about every man in the room, seemed to feel that was a crime even though none would dare act on the impulse to join her because there was something about her that was simply too overwhelming.

She lowered herself into her chair and went through the ministrations with the waiter, uncaring of the fact that she was being watched closely by everyone in the dining room floor. Chris had to admit that he was staring because Vin was right, she was the most incredible looking woman he had ever seen in his life. Chris could understand what Vin had been talking about, that she was the kind of female that inspired nothing but pure naked lust and Vin was right about something else too, Buck would have passed out just from the sight of her.

Suddenly, Chris wondered if he ought to be buying a gift for Mary too.

"I see what you mean." He remarked and then poured himself a glass of water for something to do because it was rude to keep gawking at her like a teenager.

The lady gave her order to the waiter who went scurrying away to fulfil it before allowing those incredible coloured eyes to move across the room. Chris tried not to look but could not help it when her gaze touched his and instead of moving away, she held his stare for a moment and her lips curled into a smile of invitation.

"That sickening." Vin muttered, noticing the come hither look she was giving Chris.

"What?" Chris looked at the tracker, bristling with annoyance that he had been caught indulging in strictly forbidden fare, considering his present marital status. "You said she was pretty, I was agreeing with you."

"Not that," Vin retorted, capable of reading body language quite adeptly to know that the woman’s smile at Chris was inspired by more than just a passing note of interest. "How do you do it? You got better luck with the women than Buck and you don’t even try."

Chris shrugged because this was not unusual. When it came to women, they always seemed to have a soft spot for him, whether or not he wanted the attention. Ella came to mind most prolifically and his interest in the lady across the room from him curdled at the thought of how he had become the object of Ella’s obsession and what had it had cost him. With that in mind, he broke his gaze and turned back to Vin.

"It ain’t all that its cracked up to be." He muttered.

"Sorry pard," Vin apologised, scolding himself inwardly for putting it that way especially when that line of thought would bring him inevitably to Ella Gaines. "Didn’t mean to stir up old ghosts."

He had every intention of ignoring the woman for the rest of the meal, when suddenly she stood from her chair and left her table to approach theirs.

"Gentlemen," she said politely, with a voice as silky as the dress she was wearing. "I was wondering if I might impose on you to join you. I hate dining alone and it appears my arrival has a caused a bit of undue attention."

At that moment, Vin knew she was lying.

He had spent a lifetime learning to read people by simple observation. As a bounty hunter, he was an absolutely essential skill if he wanted to stay alive. Vin had learnt now to interpret a person’s intention from their body language, from facial expressions and even the slight nuances in their speech. So when the woman made her entreaty to join them, he was quickly able to ascertain that her reasons for doing so were not what she claimed and that immediately put him on guard, even though he could not imagine why.

It could simply be that she had designs on Chris which would not be surprising because the persona of Chris Larabee lent itself well to the opposite sex Vin had noticed. They were drawn to him instinctively, despite the fact that most of the time he intimidated the hell out of them but it was obvious the darkness of him was something compelling they could not deny themselves. However, gut instinct told him that this was not the case with the desirable stranger before him. There was something more behind those eyes that gave him reason for worry.

Chris on the other hand, did not seem bothered and gestured for her to sit even though he did not address her directly.

"Thank you," she smiled her most alluring smile that would melt any man’s resolve if Vin’s state of mind had not shifted and Chris’ devotion to Mary too powerful to be influenced by any person, no matter how beautiful the face. "My name is Laurel Chase and you are?"

It was clear that Chris had most of her attention.

"Chris Larabee." He said shortly, not wanting to seem rude when it appeared the lady had good reason to join their company. A woman in the Territory was always open to danger as Chris and Vin could personally attest from the number of times they had been called on to get Mary and Alex out of trouble.

"Vin Tanner." The tracker answered just as laconically, paying attention to her for entirely different reasons now.

Laurel studied Chris and became more and more certain that he was precisely what she was looking for. His companion was interesting as well but not in the way that Chris was and Laurel did not want to push her luck by overextending her reach. Displacing one person at a time was a tricky venture, she had no intention of risking the entire enterprise by attempting to take another. Besides, she had a feeling about the younger man that put her on guard.

Together, they were dangerous.

"Please to meet you both." She smiled. "Are you locals here?"

"No," Chris answered, trying his level best to remain unaffected by the woman and noticed the slight edge in Vin’s voice and wondered what had changed for the tracker to make him suddenly cautious about the woman. Chris glanced briefly at his best friend and noted the way Vin had eased back into his chair and was now giving the woman the same look he did when he was sizing a potential enemy. "Just passing through."

_ Even better _ , Laurel thought inwardly. She noticed the wedding band on his finger and realised that he had a wife somewhere that was expecting him back. She could not imagine what kind of a woman a man like this would willingly shackle himself but considered the question more or less academic because it would matter little when they left here. At the moment, her greatest concern was his companion and wondered whether or not precautions should not be taken to neutralise the problem of Mr Tanner.

"What about you ma’am?" Vin asked in slow drawl. "You just passing through?"

"Yes," she offered him her most charming smile and bristled inwardly when Vin continued to wear that same unflappable mask, seemingly unaffected by her attempt to win him over. She was almost tempted to spend some time breaking him into a thousand pieces if she had not already made the same plans for his black garbed companion. "I’m on my way East. I’ve been travelling through the Territory, taking in the sights."

"Alone?" Chris asked, finding that very hard to believe. It was extremely dangerous for a woman to be travelling alone in the Territory.

"I have a travelling companion." She answered. "An old friend of the family."

"I saw him," Vin replied, remembering that huge Oriental man that had emerged from the stage with her. "I wouldn’t want to get on the wrong side of him."

"Mr Zhang is very good at what he does." Laurel said with a smile. "He ensures that I am well protected."

"I can see that." Vin replied and wondered what else he did for her.

* * *

The evening past quickly with Chris finding Miss Chase to be quite intriguing even if his interest had lapsed into something a little more innocent after their initial encounter. While he could not deny that she was extremely attractive in the sense that some men would be wiling to pay theirs souls for a night with such a beauty, Chris found that he could not dismiss the caution that appeared in Vin’s eyes. While the tracker had said little during the evening which was hardly surprising because Vin was always quiet with someone he did not know, Chris found that there was something more at work here. Unfortunately, until Miss Chase had departed from them, Chris could not clarify with Vin what that something was.

They emerged into the night and the dust storm that had caused Laurel to break her journey had not ceased. The wind was still sand blasting the town with tiny grains of desert that seemed to bite into the skin after a lengthy exposure.

"You staying at the hotel Miss Chase?" Chris asked over the sound of the wind.

"Yes," she nodded strands of dark hair struggling to free itself from the confinement of her coiffeur to blowing freely in the wind.

"We’ll walk you there." He replied, making the offer out of politeness more than anything else.

"Sure," Vin answered, with no intention of leaving Chris alone with this woman. While he believed Chris would not betray Mary for anything in the world, there was something about Miss Chase that made him think that she was trouble.

They were starting across the street, when suddenly a group of men appeared before them. Chris had seen the quintet around town during his stay in Vesta City but had no reason to cross their paths or give them any reason to approach him.

"I hear you’re testifying against Smiling Pete." The leader declared. The man was large and heavy set, with the face of a bruiser and appeared as if he was looking for a fight.

Neither Chris nor Vin made any move to react, although slowly and almost unseen, their hands were both sneaking towards their guns, prepared for the worst if things deteriorated any further.

"What’s it to you?" Chris asked, watching the man closely. The wind brought the scent of liquor cling to him and judging by the potency of that stench, he guessed that they were drunk and itching for trouble.

"Pete was a friend of ours and we’re looking to take it our of your hide since you served him up to the law." The man declared.

"You boys are drunk and mad," Vin added, trying to keep this thing from getting ugly. "It ain’t no way to start a fight. Why don’t you sleep it off?"

"Sleep this off!" The leader swore and threw his fist directly at Chris. The gunslinger side stepped the blow easily and still had enough time to shove Laurel away from the fight to safety.

"Get out of here!" He ordered as she stumbled away from the fighting and withdrew to a safe distance where she could watch the proceedings.

No sooner than he had ensured that Miss Chase was safely away, he felt the shadow of someone behind him and reacted by slamming his fist backwards, his knuckles meeting bone as his attacker staggered backwards, reeling from the blow. Vin was holding his own, ploughing into the man who had attempted to come to their leader’s defence only to be halted by the tracker who preferred the odds a little more even. So far no one had drawn their guns yet and Chris was grateful for that, preferring not to turn this into a shooting match if he could help it but they were still out numbered two to five.

The bruiser recovered from the blow and came at Chris once again only this time the gunslinger was on the offensive and slammed a focussed blow into the man’s very solid stomach. As Chris suspected he was drunk and had no time to prepare for the punch as Chris felt his knuckles impacting against unclenched muscle which took the worst of the hit. He doubled over as Chris threw another, this one connecting with his jaw. He uttered a small cry of pain as he reeled from multiple blows to the face as Chris threw a succession of blows, one after the other, determined to bring the man down fast.

While his opponent’s punches were wild, Chris was delivering focussed strikes and each one connected with devastating effect until finally the man was having trouble staying on his feet. Chris was hardly exerting much skill since all he seemed to understand was brute force. Chris threw a final punch and almost flipped the man over as collapsed onto the ground in a messy heap. Without wasting any time to see if he would get up because Chris was fairly confident that the hulk of a man was down for the count, Chris hurried to give Vin aid.

One of the four had his arms around Vin’s, pinning them to his sides as his companions moved in for the kill. Vin pulled up his legs and kicked out hard, slamming both feet into the man’s abdomen and sent him reeling into Chris who promptly spun him around and downed him with a left and right hook in quick succession. As Vin slammed his head backwards, impacting into the forehead of the man holding him captive with the back of his skull, Chris hurried forward and caught the arm of the opponent nearest to him who was attempting to help his comrade with Vin in his grasp.

Dragging the man towards him by the collar, Chris slammed and elbow into his face as the last number of the quintet closed in on the gunslinger. A crunch of bone indicated a broken nose and Chris did not have to see it for himself to know that he had just shattered the man’s nose. A cry of pain followed as he staggered back holding his broken appendage, bleeding profusely with thick rivulets running down his fingers. Chris cast a brief glimpse at Vin and saw the tracker was handling himself well enough, having forced the one who had him trapped to release his arms. Certain that Vin did not require his help, Chris turned back to his own opponent who was in mid punch before Chris stopped his fist by grabbing the man’s wrist before it could reach his face.

Chris threw another strong blow while still keeping a firm grip of the man’s arm and refused to let go as he followed that strike with several others until the man was so dazed that he could barely stand. When Chris finally released him, he collapsed on the ground without further resistance, joining his leader, who was still prone on the ground, while his companion with the broken nose had fled altogether. Vin was swinging at the last man on his feet, while another was scrambling away, the pain sobering him up with far more efficiency than anything else was capable. Those he had downed was picking themselves up and vacating the area, deciding that this was just too much trouble.

With the last of them taken care of, Chris dusted himself off and approached Vin who like him had hardly broken a sweat over the altercation. The five attackers had fled into the night, dazed and bleeding and Chris was in no mood to go after them. Besides, he could tell by the way they had turned tail and run that he and Vin were not going to be troubled by them any further.

Still there was something odd about the encounter.

"Is it me or did those boys look like their heart just wasn’t into what they were doing?" Chris asked feeling a little puzzled as he stared at the backs of the men receding into the distance.

Vin straightened his hat before he looked up at the gunslinger and nodded in agreement. "Yeah," the tracker nodded wondering if it was not prudent to go after those men and see what they were after. "Maybe I should go have a little talk with them."

"I wouldn’t bother," Chris shrugged. "I don’t think they’ll be back. They were liquored up and looking for a fight. I think we showed them it was a bad idea."

Vin was not so sure but held his tongue since Chris was usually right about these things. While he could read people by the signs they exhibited unconsciously, Chris was driven by a purer instinct that had no basis for explanation. He knew the things he did, because he just  _did_. "Whatever you say  pard."

Chris let out a deep breath and remarked. "Hell, I’ll be glad to get out of this place."

"Ain’t arguing with you there." Vin answered and then noticed that Laurel Chase was returning to them. He had remembered Chris ordering her to safety but it appeared that she had lingered far enough away to watch the fight.

"That was frightful gentlemen," she gushed as she reached them. "Are you alright?"

"We’re fine." Chris shrugged, feeling uncomfortable with any woman other than Mary and possibly Alex, showing that much interest in his welfare. "Come on," he said politely, remembering his original promise to walk see her back to her lodgings. "We’ll see you to your hotel. This place ain’t safe for a woman alone."

* * *

Mr Zhang was waiting for her when Laurel finally arrived at the suite of rooms that was providing her with accommodation during her brief stay in Vesta City. The large Oriental man was standing by the window where he had been carefully watching the proceedings of a few minutes ago in the street below. She expected as much since it was she who had instructed him to set those five men upon Chris Larabee and Vin Tanner. While they were hardly formidable, it did give her some idea of what Mr Larabee was capable of and she had to admit that he was everything she had expected him to be.

"You saw?" She asked as she closed the door behind her, a small smile on her lips.

"He took care of those men quite well." Zhang commented with a hint of approval on his usually stony features.

"He was magnificent." Laurel replied, unafraid to show that she had been thorougly impressed with Chris Larabee. "He hardly flinched when facing those men and every action, every blow was well thought of. Once we break him in, he’ll own the ring. People will pay anything to see him win, I promise you that Zhang."

"The other one was also quite impressive." Zhang added.

"Yes," she nodded, considering Mr Tanner for a moment. "He is young but he was very good. However, I think we will leave him for now. Together, they make quite a team, too much for my liking. Until we get Mr Larabee under control, keeping them together is dangerous. They came from a town called Four Corners, I believe." Laurel replied as she disappeared into her bedroom while continuing to speak loudly enough for Zhang to hear. The body guard maintained his vigil at the window and would not move unless she gave him permission to abandon his post. "We can always acquire Mr Tanner after we have Mr Larabee under control."

Laurel undressed and slipped into a robe, one that was designed more for the seeing than it was for the wearing. She was still modestly covered but the release of a knot in a strategic place would present her to the man she was attempting to seduce in the most favourable light. Releasing her hair from the confining coiffeur, she allowed the dark strands to fall around her shoulders and ran a silver handled brush through the mahogany locks.

"As you wish my Lady." Zhang nodded obediently as she emerged into the room once again. "Do you wish me to make the arrangements regarding Mr Larabee?"

"Yes," she said without hesitation. "The minute Mr Larabee is prepared, I want to be on my way out of this wretched town. You will tell the stage coach driver to leave as scheduled and to inform anyone who asks that we will be travelling on the stage with him. Impress upon him that should he tell anyone otherwise, the consequences could be dire. However, I do not think that such inducements will be required. Men of his type are easily bought so offer him a decent gratuity to ensure his silence."

"Yes my Lady." Zhang bowed his head gently in acknowledgment of her instructions.

"Mr Tanner and Mr Larabee are staying in this hotel but I believe that they were on their way to the saloon," she continued to issue her orders, having thought out her plan rather carefully before reaching his point. "Find out which room Tanner is staying in and I will leave something for him that will eliminate his interference when we take Larabee."

As she made that statement, she walked to a large chest which sat against the wall. Kneeling before it, she unlocked the large padlock that kept it secured from intruders and thieves and pulled open the lid after a moment. Within the confines of the chest were the weapons at her disposal and shifting through the collection of bottles, held in place by secured groves in the velvet lining. She studied the collection carefully before reaching for the one she required. The bottle looked like any other one might see on the loaded shelves of an apothecary with the same piece of cork trapping its contents within glass walls.

She uncorked the bottle once it was in her hands and took an experimental whiff, just enough for her to know that it was exactly what she needed.

"This, I think will do quite nicely for Mr Tanner." She said with a cold smile.

* * *

Vin returned to the room in the hotel he had been occupying after he and Chris had a downed a few beers in the saloon since the gunslinger knew he was itching to find out something about those five men who had attacked them in the street. No matter how he tried, Vin could not shake the feeling that there was something manufactured about that encounter and as he worked the room and spoke to the locals, his suspicions were deepened by what he had learnt. The bartender he had spoken to, remembered the men clearly and after Vin had imparted a few coins in his direction, was eager to talk. The five men were not locals but they were drifters who blew into town on occasion, willing to do all kinds of work for anyone who was willing to pay for it.

While Vin could very well believe that the men who attacked them had no deeper agenda other than stirring trouble, he could not imagine why anyone who hire them in the first place. Chris seemed relatively unconcerned, believing that probably one of Pete’s outlaw friends had put them up to it and would not doubt be making an appearance sooner or later in retribution for his testimony in the man’s trial. They spent the rest of the night drinking and carefully avoided the subject of Miss Laurel Chase. Although Vin had to confess that lady was worth discussing, he had to admit she had made his skin crawl from the very first moment she had invited herself to join them for supper.

In any case, it would soon matter little  _what_  he thought of her, Vin decided as he pulled off his suspenders after draping his jacket and hat on the edge of the bedpost. Sitting down on the soft mattress, Vin knew that no bed would feel right as long as Alex was absent and reminded himself that tomorrow night he would be back in Four Corners and with her once again. While he refused to let his desire for her hindered his responsibility to Chris and the six men he rode with, Vin could not deny that he missed her greatly whenever he had to leave town.

It pained him to realise this but he was truly a newly wed.

Pulling off his boots, Vin continued to disrobe, keeping his gun belt near his bed because you didn’t leave them too far away when you slept, not unless you were looking to go to an early grave. He placed the loaded sawed off Winchester on the pillow that would have been occupied by Alex if she had been here and stripped down to his long johns before slipping under the covers and leaning over to the lamp burning brightly on the night stand. Blowing it out, he was enveloped in darkness except for the moonlight peering through the small window.

Resting his head on the pillow, he felt the day catch up with him and found that he still could not shake this uneasiness in his bones that had started the moment Laurel Chase had sat down at their table and imposed herself upon them. While there was nothing about what she had said that seemed overly suspicious, Vin just had  _this_  feeling. The same one that he had when he had sighted Ella Gaines for the first time and knew instinctively that she was the enemy.

Drowsiness suddenly beset him and Vin was rather surprised how easy it was to fall asleep when normally it took a while for him to lapse into slumber when he was alone in a bed and not in the outdoors. The only time he had experienced a good nights sleep in a bed was when Alex was with him. Most of the time Vin preferred to sleep underneath the stars but with the dust storm outside, that was more or less impossible.

It was only when he pushed himself onto his elbows and attempted to shape his pillow into a comfortable position did he get a whiff of something strange. For a moment, he searched his memory of what the smell might be, aware only that it was like antiseptic or something chemical he had occasionally run across in Alex’s clinic. The drowsiness he thought was sleep started to become more potent until he could the room spinning in the darkness. In panic, as the realisation of what was happening dawned upon him, Vin tried to get up and found himself weighted down by invisible chains that kept him from managing that simple feat.

"Chris....." he opened his mouth to say, trying to call for help as the black that descended upon him was not just the darkness in his room but something all the more paralysing. However, the only sound that escaped his throat in the trying was a croak no one heard except himself before the fog descended and pulled a curtain of sleep over his mind.

* * *

Chris was about to turn in when he heard the door knock and wondered what the hell Vin wanted now since he was looking forward to getting some sleep. He hoped the tracker was still not preoccupied with those five men who had attempted to attack them in the street following their dinner at the restaurant. Chris was a true believer in letting the quarry come to him and in this case, it seemed to be the only thing to do as it was very obvious that those five men were hired to do a job and had failed miserably. Such failures usually proceed a more prolific attack and while Chris was by no means complacent, he was not about to turn himself inside out waiting for it to happen.

Vin on the other hand could be extremely persistent when the mood took him and if he believed he was right, there was nothing in heaven or earth that could keep him from proving it. It was one of the things that Chris admired about the tracker while at the same time, being one of the most infuriating aspects of the man. Walking to the door, Chris was prepared to drag the sharpshooter by the hair back to his room and tying him to his bed because as far as the gunslinger was concerned, they were going home tomorrow and that was all there was to it. Vin was going to get some sleep for their early start whether he liked it or not.

Chris pulled open his doorknob expecting to see the familiar features of Vin Tanner when he was confronted by something that could not have been further from what he had expected. For a minute, he wondered if God was having some joke at his expense or at least testing his resolve to keep to his marriage vows. Standing before him with a bottle of champagne and a very flimsy robe was Laurel Chase. It was very obvious what she wanted of him by the smile she was brandishing almost as dangerously as gun.

"Miss Chase." He said unprepared to let her in any farther than the door.

"Mr Larabee." She answered, giving him that killer smile that would have reduced a normal man to a slobbering wreck. "I thought we might share a drink in honour of your victory this evening." She gave him a suggestive smile that she indicated that a drink was not all that she had in mind.

"I’m afraid not." Chris replied. He was taller than her and he looked down at the lovely Miss Chase to catch an eyeful of ample white bosom that looked as if it would have been heavenly to the touch if he was willing to hurt the woman he loved to find out. Which he was not. "I’m leaving early tomorrow and I need to get some sleep."

"So am I," she said brushing past him and Chris was far too rude to push her out and thought how he was going to extricate himself from this situation without getting his face slapped if he became just a little  _too_  blunt.

"Miss Chase," Chris started to say as he started to turn around. "I’m flattered but I’m a married man."

"I know," she nodded, planting herself down on the bed that had been waiting for him earlier. "I think it’s a very quaint idea, this concept fidelity."

"Its a little bit more than that." Chris replied, deciding that there was no polite way out of this. Attractive as she was and she was  _spectacularly_   attractive, Chris had no intention of hurting Mary by betraying her with another woman. Taking her arm gently, he exerted just enough force around her wrist to indicate that he wanted her to leave.

"Very well," she said with a wistful smile, taking the rejection surprisingly well for a woman. "Can’t blame a lady for trying." She allowed herself to be led to the door once again.

Chris was glad she had no intention of creating a fuss and making the situation all the more awkward than it already was. With the bottle of liquor still in her hand, she turned to face him as she reached the door and without warning, pulled her to him in a kiss of heated passion. Chris barely had a chance to push her away before he felt her tongue sneaking past his lips and exploring his mouth with searing intensity. Despite himself, he could not help being lost in the power of that kiss when suddenly, the back of his head flared in pain as he heard glass shatter loudly.

Laurel stepped backwards after bringing down the bottle on the back of his skull and allowed him to fall down face first onto the hard floor. She wiped her hands, soaked form the liquor when the bottle had broken, onto her robe and stepped away from the prone figure. Laurel looked at the unconscious form of Chris Larabee, satisfied that he would be incapacitated until she was able to administer the long-term solution required for the journey away from Vesta City.

Opening the door, Mr Zhang was already waiting for her. Laurel stepped into the hallway, uttering only one order as prepared to return to her room.

"Take him."


	3. Potential

 

Vin Tanner woke up with a start.

He pushed his head from the pillow in a supreme effort, fighting the swirling fog in his mind that threatened to drag him down its soft, warm comfort which each length of his journey. The drowsiness in his bones was more than just sleep, he knew that without any doubt in his mind because normally he was a light sleeper and could wake up at the slightest sound. The difficulty in just keeping his eyes open as he forced himself away from the mattress was not natural as was the bitter taste in his mouth and sparked a memory in him of the time when he had woken up after Will Richmond had shot him. He was racked by the same stupor that had beset him from being heavily sedated in order for Alex to perform surgery on him to save his life.

He sat upright and felt the room spin uncontrollably for a few seconds as he attempted to regain control of his equilibrium. His insides felt rubbery and Vin knew that he had not quite shaken the effects of whatever had been put on his pillow to steal the last few hours from him. He was slid clad in his long johns as he felt himself to his feet, using a herculean effort to keep from dropping to his knees as he forced himself to take a step. His legs were uncooperative and the best that he could manage as he staggered towards the chair uncontrollably was to grab the table it sat against, before he could collapse to the floor.

Looking outside the window, morning shone into his room like a powerful strobe of light and the sounds of day could be heard from the street below. He could hear the voices of people going about their business, their footsteps loud against the boardwalk as they made their way up the length of town, chattering to friends and neighbours. Horses trotted enthusiastically up and down dirt track that ran through the heart of town. The heat of the air told him just how late in the morning it was and he knew with a sinking feeling that whatever the reason for his sedation had been, it was more or less accomplished with the discovery of how much time he had been asleep.

This gave him a renewed determination to regain control of himself. Allowing himself a few seconds to accustom himself to being awake, he made another attempt to move and was met with decidedly more success. This time he made it to the door and did not care that he was clad in long johns only as he twisted the door knob and stumbled out into the hall. His heart was pounding with fear because he knew there could only be one reason for his being drugged like this.  _Someone_  had wanted him out of the way. With his increased heart rate pumping blood through his limbs, the effects of the sedative began to dissipate and by the time he had reached the door to Chris Larabee’s room, he was more or less running.

Bursting in through the door, Vin Tanner stopped short at the doorway and knew that he was too late.

The room was empty. Evidence of Chris’ habitation was obvious by the black hat that was perched on the nightstand and the gun belt that hung at the edge of the bed head. There was no signs of a struggle, save for the remnants of broken glass not too far from the door. Vin let his gaze sweep across the room, feeling this tightening in his chest that whispered taunts of failure at having not been there when Chris had needed him most. Vin lowered himself to the fragments of glass and picked up one of the broken shards. He took a breath of it and knew that it was wine, not whisky or bourbon like a man would drink but wine.

_Something a woman would drink._

Chris had not been alone in this room and yet the bed was made, with only the covers drawn back to show that it had been intended for use even though the sleeper had never made it there to sleep. Chris’ boots were still at the foot of the bed and however, he had left here, he had done so wearing his long johns and his pants. Everything else that had come with the gunslinger from Four Corners remained behind. Vin let his gaze sweep across the room, studying every aspect of it and knew even before he had shifted through what was left behind that he would find nothing to give evidence as to what had been Chris’ fate.

Without any doubt he knew that a woman had come in to this room last night and possibly attacked Chris with the bottle whose remains were at his feet before having the gunslinger removed from this vicinity. Whoever it was had also taken the precaution of rendering him unconscious with the concoction that had awaited him on his pillow to ensure that he would not be there to offer Chris any assistance during the entire procedure. Poisons and potions was a woman’s tool and Vin knew the bad feeling that he had endured through the night before in the company of Laurel Chase was not incorrect. He knew that she could have been the only one who was responsible for this.

Vin did not know how much time he had because the kidnappers had an extremely large gap ahead of him. He was assuming that Chris had been kidnapped because the possibility that someone had caught him off guard in order to murder Chris Larabee was more than the tracker could stand. Withdrawing from the room for the moment, the effects of the sedative were more or less gone by the time he returned to his room and started to get dressed. The judge was in town and the sheriff in Vesta City might be able to lend a hand as they started the search. He knew it was Laurel Chase he had to find because there could be no other explanation.

Returning to his own room, he pulled on his clothes and tucked his Winchester into his holster, hoping against hope that Chris was still alive and not beyond his reach.

* * *

Hours later, Vin was gathered outside the jailhouse with Sheriff McMasters and Orin Travis in attendance. Following Vin’s revelation that some foul play had befallen Chris Larabee, McMasters had ordered a search of the entire town of Vesta City, hoping to some clue as to the whereabouts of the missing lawman. Vin himself had tried to pick up tracks around the hotel but with the dust storm raging outside, anything that might have yielded useful information would have been obscured at the first gust of strong wind. Let alone, managing to remain in place throughout the night for him to find it the next morning.

Vesta City was not that large a community despite the dubious use of the word ‘city’ and most of the community had been indoors during the night, having no wish to battle the weather not to mention the undesirables that roam the streets in the darkness. Thus, no one had seen anything out of the ordinary. After Vin had gotten dressed, he had questioned the hotel staff as to whether they had seen Chris leave. Like everyone else, they had noticed nothing unusual even though they did confess that a minimum staff was on hand during the night and so it was likely someone could have come and gone unnoticed. Unfortunately, as Vin was to learn throughout the course of his search, that was more or less the stock standard response of everyone regarding the subject.

"Any luck?" Orin asked once the trio of men had congregated outside the jailhouse hours after the alarm had been given.

"No," Vin shook his head. "Nobody has seen nothing." The tracker grumbled.

"Well I talked to Mr Olsen at the livery," Sheriff McMasters drawled, having something to add even though it was not much. "He say that big China man you saw with the woman Chase, bought a horse and wagon."

Vin was not surprised. "Any idea which way they were headed?" He asked, not really expecting an answer.

"No," the man shook his head in answer. "The Chinaman just bought the horse and wagon and didn’t say much else. I get the impression that Olsen was glad to see him go."

"Well the man could break you in half with his hands." Vin pointed out. "Smartest thing your Mr Olsen could have done was to keep quiet and not give him any reason to do that."

"Are you sure it’s this Laurel Chase who’s taken Chris?" Judge Travis finally asked. It was hard to believe a woman could pull off such a feat of kidnapping on someone like Chris Larabee. The gunslinger was the sharpest man he knew and he could not imagine Chris letting his guard down long enough to let a woman get the better of him, not to mention betraying Mary for one. "I mean Smiling Pete had a gang, I wouldn’t put it past them to take some kind of revenge on Chris."

"No," Vin shook his head, having already considered that possibility and dismissed it just as quickly. "This ain’t their style. They wouldn’t waste time trying to drug me in my bed. They’d just jumped me and be done with it."

"Tanner’s right," McMasters nodded in agreement, fully versed in the habits of Pete’s gang to know that this was too subtle for the likes of them. There was a certain amount of surgical precision in this that was beyond the ability of Pete’s gang to accomplish. "They ain’t that smart and in a town this size, they couldn’t have come into Vesta City without anyone spotting them."

"Still doesn’t answer the question why she would want him?" Travis mused unhappily, ever mindful of how this might effect his daughter in law. With Mary’s time so close, it was the worst possible thing that could happen now.

"I don’t know," Vin replied heavily. "There was something about the way she way she was looking at him that’s wasn’t quite right." He paused, uncertain how to describe the unease he had felt the moment Laurel had seen Chris. It was almost predatory, like someone who was out hunting and found exactly the kind of quarry she desired to catch. At first Vin thought it was because of how women normally behaved around Chris but on deeper reflection, it seemed like more than attraction. He did not doubt that her interest was sexual in some way because he was not that ignorant about a lady’s manner but there was calculation in her eyes that did confine her intentions to being merely that of lust.

"Well I’m getting two kinds of stories," McMasters added. "Olsen says the Chinaman bought a horse and wagon, Bishop at the stage depot said that the driver told him that he was taking his passengers on to the next stop this morning. Depending on who you talk to, the lady could have either left town by stage or a wagon."

"It doesn’t matter really," Vin retorted. "The fact is, she’s still gone and she took Chris with her."

Vin wandered away out of frustration, hating to feel this helpless when Chris was out there, kidnapped for God only knew what purpose and Vin whom he relied upon to watch his back had let it happen. Vin did not know who to feel angrier at, Laurel Chase for kidnapping his best friend or himself for not being on guard enough to keep it from happening. He stared at the town around him and the dusty horizon in the distance and did not have the slightest idea where to start looking, knowing only that he had to.

"It’s your call Vin," Judge Travis spoke up. "What do you want to do?"

Vin let out a deep breath and faced them again. "Only one thing to do," the tracker said after a moment. "I got to get riding to Four Corners and get the others."

* * *

Chris felt a soft hand on his brow.

It caressed the skin with almost gentle deliberation, allowing the soft palm to brush lightly against the clammy skin of his forehead. He took a breath of her scent into his lungs and felt it tickle at his insides with its tantalising fragrance. For a brief instance, while he was trapped in that place between wakefulness and dreamscape, he thought it might have been Mary touching him and his hand unconsciously flew to take her hand in his because he wanted to feel her so much. However, the more he was drawn into the reality of consciousness, the most recent memories he had suddenly converged upon him and reminded him his situation.

Chris grabbed the wrist and pulled it towards him, reacting the way Chris Larabee only could when attacked. He flung her on the bed, clamped his fist around her throat and pulled back his fist ready to strike if she did not tell him what he desired to know. His brain was still a fog of vague sensations and he supposed he should not have been the least bit surprised when he heard the click of a gun in his ear, following that sudden burst of life. Laurel Chase did not struggle in his grip. If anything she wore an expression of confidence on her lovely face as he pressed up hard against the pillow with his hand around her throat.

Chris glanced over his shoulder and saw the huge Chinaman that Vin had been talking about, wearing that same nondescript mask of indifference, even though he was holding a gun to Chris’ ear. There was no need for him to say anything thing, the trigger pulled back waiting for release on the gun spoke far more clearly than any verbalisation that he might produce to his possible target.

"Now that we have that sorted out," Laurel replied coolly, "do you think you might let me up or do you wish Mr Zhang to put a sizeable hole in the back of your skull?"

Chris glared at her and swallowed the bile of defeat in his throat at the realisation that for the moment, he was her creature. Releasing her with clear animosity in his withdrawal, Chris staggered away from the bed and reached for the flaring pain at his exertions on the back on his neck. As he touched the raw flesh tenderly, he noted that he had sustained a sizeable wound form her sneak attack inside his room. However, the pain of that injury was inconsequential to the heaviness that still pervaded his limbs. Although he was moving, he was having great difficulty keeping his movements from being sluggish and lacking the usual agility he was accustomed to. It did not take a great leap of conceptual logic to appreciate that she had drugged him. He could feel the bitter aftertaste of whatever she had given him still on his tongue.

As she picked herself up from the brass bed that he had awaken from, Chris noticed that she was now dressed very much like that the lady once more. The robe in which she had attempted to seduce him was gone, replaced instead by the finery that he often saw Julia Pemberton wearing. Her hair was pinned back with ornate hair accessories and once again, he could not deny that this was undoubtedly the most beautiful woman he had ever seen and possibly, the most dangerous as well. She walked across the carpeted floor of a room that looked like the inside of a very expensive hotel suite, with Persian rugs on the floor and other displays of wealth in its antique furniture and fabric wall paper covering its walls. There was no windows, Chris noticed and only one door. That worried him.

"What do you want with me?" He asked as he rubbed the back of his neck.

Laurel sat down at the wing chair near the bed, smoothing down her dress as she did so and gestured Mr Zhang to withdraw for the moment. The huge oriental did not leave the confines of the spacious room but rather fell back to the door. However, his eyes were fixed firmly on Chris with enough intention in that dispassionate face to indicate that any threatening move towards his employer was going to be met with his utmost displeasure.

"Why don’t you get some more rest Chris." She gestured towards the bed. "You haven’t shaken off the effects of the sedative I gave you for our journey here. Perhaps you might be a little more responsive when you’re a little clearer about things."

Chris took a step towards her and paused, noting the big man behind him and faced her again. "I’m clear enough. What do you want?"

"That’s such a broad term." She said evasively. Rising to her feet, she glided across the room and went to the cabinet where a bottle of liquor was perched on top of a platter with several matching glasses. Without asking, she poured them both a drink, perfectly aware that he would not drink if she just offered him one. Men like Chris Larabee were not fools and they did not allow anything to slip past their notice when their instincts were geared for attack as his was now.

"Drink this," she handed him a glass and was unsurprised when he took it. "It will make you return to the land of the living a little smoother."

Chris saw her take a sip from it and decided that he could use a drink and he was not going to play the game of trying to guess whether or not she was trying to poison him. She had gone to too much trouble bringing him to this place alive for her to turn around and kill him at first opportunity. Taking a sip of the drink, he savoured it in his throat and was forced to begrudgingly admit that it was helpful in awakening some of his senses.

"Feeling better?" She asked, returning to her seat again.

"Yeah," he nodded and then responded. "So what the hell do you want?"

"Not one for small talk I suppose," she let out a sigh and then met his eyes once more. "Then again I suppose you’re not much for that sort of thing are you Chris? As much as you refuse to believe it, you’re not that entirely unique. I see that life has not been kind to you and you’ve used it to make you a very formidable creature where most would have allowed grief to break them."

Chris frowned, disliking her in depth analysis of his psyche, particularly when some of the things she was saying that was not entirely wrong.

"I’ll bet you are still a force of nature aren’t you?" She gave him a little smile. "Before that band of gold neutered you like gelding and took away everything about Chris Larabee that made him a killer."

"Are you going to tell me what you want or not?" Chris gave her look of pure impatience. "Or are you gonna bore me with more talk."

"You are my guest Chris," she rose to her feet, not at all perturbed by his abrasive manner. "You will stay here and you will be my prize stud and you will love every minute of servicing me and performing the tricks I require of you. You will do it with a song in your heart because by the time I am through with you, you will barely remember her name, let alone why you even cared in the first place." She flashed him a cruel smile.

There was such confidence in the way she made her threat that it chilled Chris to the bone. "Her name is Mary and she’s my wife and there is no way you are stopping me from getting back to her." He said defiantly. "Now why don’t you save the talk and just tell me why I am here?"

"All in good time Chris." She said with smile. "At the moment, you need to rest and reflect on your situation."

"My situation?" Chris bristled, hating this game she was playing. "What’s my situation. You’ve kidnapped me; you have some strange idea that I’m going to just forget my wife and son! That’s my situation."

"Your situation," she said a sharp contrast to the anger he was displaying and for the first time, Chris had some idea why he sometimes drove the rest of the seven crazy by being so damn cool all the time. This was a hell of way to find out. "Your situation is that I have chosen you for greatness. I am going to make you stronger, faster and better than you have ever felt in your life. All those hidden impulses, those ones you don’t tell anyone about, you know the ones I mean don’t you Chris?" She stood up and started walking towards him, her blue eyes burning with perfect understanding.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about." He retorted and felt a constricting inside her chest because there was truth in her words that had sparked something within him.

"Yes you do," Laurel answered smoothly. "The ones that keep you civilised and law abiding. The impulse that wants you to pull the trigger in a fight, not to back down or play it safe according to some ridiculous concept of morality. I suspect its been there all your life, crushed in the darkness, crawling through the notion of good and evil, gasping for breath and leaving just enough impression for everyone who comes across you to know that its there. Come on Chris, I can feel the demon waiting in the dark, it wants freedom because its time has come. You’ve been half a man all your life, let go of it and watch it make you a god."

"You’re insane." He found himself whispering.

"And you’re a coward." She returned just as sharply.

Without thinking, he lashed out. A balled fist catching her on the cheek with such swift strike that even Chris did not have the time to question what he had just done. He was aware of Zhang’s footsteps crossing the floor in seconds, before a fist slammed into his side and drew all the breath from his lung and sent a scream of pain through him that dropped him to his knees.

"Stop!" He heard her shout as Zhang stood above him, poised to shoot.

Laurel had tumbled to the floor and felt blood on her broken lip. It was not a severe injury but it had the result she desired. She stared at him as he remained on his hands and knees breathing hard and recovering, not form the pain she suspected but rather his actions. He was not a man accustomed to lashing out in anger. His was an ordered existence with ordered violence, which made him as feared and predatory as the rest of the world knew him to be. She took Zhang’s outstretched hand and stood up shakily, staring at Chris for a moment before a small smile crossed her lips.

"You see," she replied. "Its not that hard, is it?"

* * *

"It’s working." Laurel Chase told Zhang as they walked down the corridor from the room where Chris Larabee was being held prisoner. "The initial dosage is starting to imprint itself in his system. We’ll move into the second phase of administration. Fortunately, his natural hostility is making the drug work more effectively than normal."

She wiped the blood from her lips where he had struck her and examined it in her hands for an instance. "Damn he was fast." She commended, feeling a ripple of excitement at the amount of potential she had seen briefly in that room. "I’ve seen many come and gone in these halls Zhang but he is promising to outstrip all the others we’ve had in this place."

"He’s dangerous." Zhang commended, not liking how Larabee had hit his Lady.

"Yes he is," she agreed readily. "That’s why he’s going to make us a fortune."

* * *

What the hell had happened to him?

Chris stared at his hands after Laurel and her henchman had gone trying to understand what had motivated such an incredible outburst of rage. He did not lose control like that. Not ever. He could count the instances where rage had overcome him so profoundly that he did not have the slightest sense of what he was doing. Yet when he had lashed out at her, what was so frightening in that brief margin of time between realising what he had done and striking her, was the fact that Chris had found it strangely liberating. Like something long buried inside of him had finally found expression. If he was not so mortified by what he had done, he would almost call himself sated.

Worst of all, what she had said did not sound entirely alien to him because Chris knew what she was talking about even if he refused to indulge its existence in him. Yes, he knew that he scared people, he was Chris Larabee, notorious gunslinger. However, was it just the reputation or was it him personally? Did people look at him and see something bubbling beneath the surface of his cool eyes, did they think that he was some kind of monster waiting emergence at the slightest provocation? He could not blame them if they did, after all, he knew he was intimidating. His manner had always been that way, even before Sarah and Adam had died. However, he could not deny that it had become decidedly worse with their passing.

Why was he racking his brain with this? Chris blinked hard and sat upright and looked around the room. His prison was rather luxurious even though he could not understand what Laurel Chase was attempting to do with her talk about demons and unleashing that part of him he had under tight control in order for him to reach some state of enlightenment. There was only one thing he ought to be doing right now and that was getting the hell out of here. He looked around the room and started ransacking the drawers in the cabinets, wardrobe and even the night stand. She had left nothing that could be used to aid his escape and he felt a slow chill as he noted the clothes inside the wardrobe, particularly after he realised that they were all his size.

The parallels between her and what Ella had done were too frightening.

Finally, he made his way to the door aware that it was probably locked and had every intention of breaking it down to secure his freedom. He was not for one minute staying in this place any longer than necessary. He twisted the doorknob and to his excitement, felt the lock was unsecured and pulled back to find it very much open. However, when the door swung wide, Chris found himself standing in front of a secondary door and this time, it was made of steel bars. As his fingers knotted around the length of steel, he knew that this door would not budge as easily as the one before it. He peered out as far as he could and found his room to be at the beginning of a corridor which similar doors like the one he had just used. Unfortunately, it appeared this was the only room with reinforced bars.

Obviously, Laurel was not about to let him languish in squalor but he was not going anywhere.

He tested the bars even though he knew they would be secured and impregnable. Swearing under his breath, the suspicion was soon proved a reality and he retreated into the room again, slamming the wooden door hard in a show of frustration at his continued incarceration. He hated this! He had no idea where he was or for that matter how long he had been unconscious. She had drugged him with something so he had no sense of time and for some reason, he could not settle down and let his patience take control like it normally did when he was faced with untenable situation. He paced the floor of the room and knew that he had to get out of here.

He had to get out of here before he really lost control.

* * *

"What do you mean you lost him?" Buck Wilmington demanded of Vin Tanner when the tracker had returned to Four Corners. Even though the first place Vin should have gone was to Mary, he did not know how to approach the woman in the condition she was in and tell her to her face that her husband had been kidnapped without any clue as to who might have taken him. He knew he was being something of a coward when Vin found himself at the saloon instead and felt somewhat gratified to see the rest of the seven there. Besides, they had to get a search underway as soon as possible.

"I told you already." Vin said trying not to sound defensive but unable to keep from doing so when Buck’s tone sounded so accusatory. "We ran into this woman and she seemed to like Chris but there was something about her that did not sit right." Vin tried to explain his impressions on Laurel Chase and wished he had the words to articulate unease she had engender within him a little clearer to his companions.

"And you believe that this lady was responsible for kidnapping Mr Larabee?" Ezra asked in a gentler tone, perfectly aware of the close knit relationship shared between gunslinger and tracker to know that Vin was probably feeling bad enough without Buck berating him any further.

"I’m sure of it." Vin replied, confident about that much at least, since he had no other information to offer his companions.

They were inside the saloon, congregating around the saloon after a day of fending off some rowdy railroad workers that had breezed into town, liquored up and looking to spend their day off by indulging in too much drinking which ultimately culminated in something more violent. While no one had been hurt, there were at least two men presently on their way back to their rail boss with minor injuries when Josiah had taken account of their behaviour with them.

"There was something on my pillow." Vin explained. "She put something on my pillow to knock me out. Felt like the stuff Alex uses when she does operations. I was out for most of the night."

"Could have been ether or some form of ether or chloroform." Nathan pointed out. "Either would have done the same thing."

"She wanted me out of the way so she could get to Chris." The tracker responded as if admitting it would leave a bad taste in his mouth. "I woke up the next morning and Chris was gone. Everything in his room was still there, even his guns. I found some glass and what smells like wine I think came from the pieces of a bottle."

"That is how she tricked her way into the room." Ezra declared to no one in particular even though his opinion was universally agreed with.

"Chris ain’t the type to be taken in by no lady," JD spoke up in their leader’s defence. Chris Larabee had a better sense of people than anyone he knew and most of the time, he could spot the enemy a mile away. JD could not believe any reason that would allow him to be swayed by a woman especially when they were all aware of just how strongly he felt for Mary.

"Well you ain’t seen this woman." Vin found himself unable to keep from voicing that statement about Laurel Chase.

"I take it the lady is handsome." Ezra looked at him, somewhat surprised by Vin’s choice of words. The tracker hardly paid attention to such things and for him to make the statement when his wife was one of the most fetching females Ezra had ever known in his life was nothing to dismiss. It was possible for there to women who were so beautiful that it literally paralysed the mind of all good sense. Not even someone as indifferent as Chris Larabee might be able to escape that power.

"Handsome don’t even begin to cover it," Vin replied taking another deep swallow of his beer. "I ain’t never seen anything like her. It was like looking at something that made you want to forget all the other women you’ve ever known just to get one minute with her, walks into a room and every man knows it. If you can get past that, it’s actually kind of scary."

"Really?" Buck looked at the tracker wondering if the man was exaggerating and knew that it was not in Vin’s nature to be bombastic about his descriptions and the existence of such a captivating creature had inspired Buck’s interest more than he liked to admit.

"Left me staring with my mouth open," Vin confessed. "I don’t think Chris would cheat on Mary for anything but it might have been enough for him to be just a little less careful than he ought to have been. I’m saying she got in the room and broke that bottle over him."

The rest were agreeable to that scenario.

"So we better start searching." JD drained his glass and rose to his feet before he noticed that Vin was making no such moves and neither was anyone else at the table for that matter. JD let his gaze sweep across the faces that were looking to Vin for direction but the tracker did nothing or made no move to get them up and searching.

"I don’t know where to start." Vin said softly. "By the time I woke up, there were no tracks to follow. Vesta City was in the middle of a dust storm and this Chase woman and her man were gone. Only thing I knew was they got themselves a wagon but even that’s not enough case they had half a night’s head start on me. The men at the stage coach depot claimed the driver said the lady was leaving on the stage with him so I don’t got any idea where to begin. The stage driver ain’t gonna be back to Vesta City for another two days and I had to come back here and tell you boys what was happening."

"Well I would suggest we start by telling Mary." Josiah said sombrely, aware that Vin had come here directly after riding into town and Chris Larabee’s wife had no idea yet that her husband was missing.

Upon hearing that suggestion, Vin felt the urge to get another drink and raised his glass at a passing barmaid to indicate as much. When he set his mug down again, he raised his eyes to the others and remarked quietly. "I’m gonna need a drink before I have to tell a pregnant woman that her husband is gone."

No one at the table could blame him for that.

* * *

Chris had been inside the room for almost a day and his incarceration was already starting to make him feel like a caged rat. Even though he had been left to his own devices following his brief meeting with Laurel Chase, Chris felt as if he was ready to jump out of his skin from the sheer need to escape these four walls. The room had been provided with a water closet so he did not even get a chance to leave its confines for that purpose. The only person he had seen after Laurel and her lackey had left was a young boy who had slipped some food through a slot at the foot of the bars that was just wide enough to let a tray be slid in but offered no way of escape. The food like everything else in his prison was first rate and he had to admit he was hungry. Besides, there was no sense in starving oneself and being less than capable when the opportunity for escape did present itself.

He ate a little and found the meal surprisingly good and felt trapped between annoyance and satisfaction when he finished it, wondering what on earth Laurel had in mind for him. She seemed so damn confident that she would bend him to his will. What inspired that kind of certainty, Chris wondered. In either case, the next few hours provided no such answers and at regular intervals, meals would arrive like clockwork. Breakfast, lunch and dinner, it was an infuriating ritual that took the place of a clock. He hated not knowing what time it was an as the hours widened and he felt the familiar drowsiness that came with sleep, Chris guessed that it must be night.

Finally, having no other recourse but to wait her out, he relented and gave himself into his slumber....

* * *

He woke up to the sound of cheering in the far away distance.

Lying against the soft mattress, he tried to discern the sound that rumbled softly through the floor, travelled through the matter of his bed and mattress to seep into his hearing in soft, distance echoes. Chris listened closely, straining his ears so he could distinguish the sounds he was hearing with greater clarity. There was a crowd nearby, a large one by the number of voices he was unable to separate from one another. They were cheering, some were chanting and the revelry that breathed in every bit of applause and shout was apparent even from here.

 Chris sat up in his bed, trying to understand why he was here. Hearing all that cheering outside did not offer answers but served to wrap his confusion in a further layer of this riddle that was Laurel Chase. He found himself walking to the doorway and swinging the door open confronted once again by those damnable bars of steel. Seeing those length of metal snapped the reason inside of him so easily that in retrospect, Chris would wonder how it had crumbled so quickly when in the past, his ruthless control of his emotions was something he was proud of.

"Let me out of here!" He started screaming. His fists knotted around the bars.

No one answered and the silence further infuriated him. "I said let me out of here!" He demanded again and was greeted with that same deplorable quiet or ignorance, he could not tell which. The sense left him and he stormed back into the room and tore the metal tray his food had been served on, up ending the empty cups and plates that were resting on it. Chris wanted out of here! He was no animal to be trapped like this! He wanted to go home to Four Corners, to Mary and Vin and all the friends that was left behind! He wanted to go NOW!

Riding on a wave of pure adrenalin, he smashed the metal tray against the bars, creating a loud clang on impact. He continued to do so for a few minutes, creating powerful echoes of noise through the corridor as he put enough force into the effort to bend the tray out of shape. Still no one came and he returned to the innards of the room, this time grabbing a chair and slamming into the bars with every ounce of strength he could muster. The effect was nothing less than fatal for the piece of furniture concerned for it crumbled in his hands, splintering by the force of impact. Legs buckled, wood splinter and the entire construct came apart in hands before reaching the floor in a messy heap.

Its destruction felt good. Chris could almost feel a physical pleasure in being able to vent his fury and felt that if they were going to keep him prisoner, they were damn well not going to have an easy time of it nor was he going to cooperate with her. That bitch was not going to make him perform like some circus animal or service her like some stud horse! He grabbed the nightstand and repeated the same procedure. Chris began to systematically destroy every piece of furniture in the room, if he could not smash it, he tipped it over. His rage was such that he no longer cared about the consequences for his bad behaviourbecause if they wanted to reprimand him, they were going to have to come into the room to do that.

_Maybe it would be that fucking Miss Chase_ , he thought viciously. Let her come in here and he’d show her what it was to cage him up like an animal. This time it would be no fist either, maybe he would give her something to really get upset about. She wanted him to be the demon, he could do that and maybe he would show her what it was like to provoke things she had no business trying to bring into the light. Nobody made him do anything he did not want to! Nobody!

"You hear me!" He screamed loudly as he picked up another chair. This time brought it down against the hard surface of the floor, collapsing it immediately. Broken pieces flew about in all directions; some dug into his skin, stinging him with splinters, which Chris barely registered. His rage was such that he did not care. "I am gonna sit here quietly and let you keep me like some kind of a dog!"

God, he wanted to hurt her! Chris found himself thinking as he continued on his path of destruction, so wired from the feelings inside of him he barely knew how to contain himself from expressing pleasure with each new thing he broke, with each exertion of rage. Service her! He snorted. She had actually used the word serviced, like he was one of those stud horses he had on his ranch, rutting with the mares. Suddenly visions of her on her knees, of him riding her, of his showing her who was master and who was the one who would be screaming in pain when he exerted the full force of his wrath upon her, filled his mind with delicious waves of vengeance. Chris found himself breathing hard, delighting in the rape images in his mind, the satisfaction of hearing her whimper when he trust into her in a hard, satisfying rhythm.

To his utter horror, he found himself hardening at the thought.

The realisation of what he had been just fantasising about in his head was so horrifying that Chris felt his insides heave with disgust and he found himself running for the water closet. Dropping to his knees over the cistern, his nausea culminated as he retched violently. Chris did not know how long he remained hunched over the white ceramic, knowing only that for an instant he had gone down a dark path that gave him an insight to something terrible inside him. He could not even eject the contents of his stomach and all that emerged was bile, souring the inside of his mouth with its venomous taste. Chris wiped his lips and staggered outside once more, his mind filled with violent images and yet the person he was had brought things into perspective.

Chris looked up and saw his reflection in the mirror of the dressing table. It had been one of the few things in the room that had survived the onslaught of his rage. He noticed his image in the glass but had not really taken a close look. The man in the mirror was barely a man. Chris had never seen himself so savage but he knew front the sweat glistening of his bare torso and the glimmer in his eyes that was fast fading away with the return of his senses was enough to frighten the hell out of him. For a few seconds, he could only stare at his reflection.

What the hell was happening to him?

Even when he was trapped in that prisoner, with the designation of Inmate 78, he had more control over his senses than this. He had been in this room for a day, at least he thought it was a day, he could not be sure because the lack of window had robbed him of his ability to make the distinction. He had only been confined for a day and already his entire psyche was starting to unravel at the imprisonment. He could not understand it. His stomach recoiled in disgust when he thought of what he had been thinking in regards to Miss Chase a moment ago. Chris Larabee was not a rapist! He did not brutalise women for the sheer pleasure of it.

And yet envisioning it in his head had been pleasurable, his body’s reaction betrayed him with even though Chris should have been recoiling at the very thought. When he had seen it done to Alice and Inez, he had thought that there was nothing more disgusting than to treat a woman that way and here he was, so damn angry that he had entertained the possibility. Not even when he had found out that Ella had killed his wife and son did Chris feel the rage that would make such an act of violence justifiable. He had to get out of here! He had to get out before it got any worse, before being trapped like an animal made him one.

"LET ME OUT!" He screamed on top of his lungs and put his fist through the glass, shattering it with a loud crack of sound, uncaring as to the pain that flared from his knuckles as pieces of glass spilled onto the wooden surface of the dressing table with loud, sharp noise. Barely registering the pieces of glass that dug into his foot from the broken mirror and just about everything else that he had broken in the place, Chris flung himself at the bars again.

"Let me out!" He started to pound against the wall next to the bars, the sound dull in comparison to the racket he had been making. He could peer through the bars and see only a section of the corridor that ran from him further into the place where he was kept. Who was behind those doors and why could they not hear him. Surely they had to know he was here! Why were they just leaving him in here! Chris wanted an enemy he could face, one he could fight. Not an enemy whose intention was to drive him insane with this endless game of waiting. Yet, somewhere within all those feelings, a part of him was asking why he was so impatient when all his life, it was his practise to let the enemy come to him not go after them before he was ready. What had changed now?

Suddenly, he heard footsteps. He could hear them clearly once he paused long enough to listen. His heart was pounding inside his chest with excitement. Now he was going to show them what it meant to keep him trapped like this. Chris heard two sets of a footsteps and rustle of silk that could only be produced from the long skirt of a woman’s dress. He withdrew into the room, awaiting their arrival, breathing hard.

A few seconds later, Laurel Chase and her oriental companion were staring at him through the bars. The lady let her gaze sweep across the room and seemed relatively unperturbed by the destruction she had witnessed around her. They were both dressed in evening wear with Laurel wearing her dark hair up and clad in a low cut shimmery red dress with a taut bodice that gave an ample view of her creamy breasts. Her lipstick matched the dress and if it were not for the fact that he was half crazed trying to escape the room and the fact that she was keeping him prisoner, Chris would have complimented her on her appearance. Both Laurel and Mr Zhang wore a similarly dispassionate countenance as they surveyed the damage, appearing just as unconcerned by what he had wrought within the confines of the room.

"My goodness," she commented, raising her eyes to Chris. "You have been busy."

"Let me out of here!" He hissed, throwing himself against the bars and forcing the duo to take a step back instinctively.

"No." She answered coolly.

"LET ME OUT!" He roared, reacting to those words like he had been scalded with something hot. "Let me out or I’ll slit you open when I do get out!" He forced his arm through the space between the bars, his fingers clawing air wildly to reach her.

"That will be a neat trick, Chris." She said unperturbed by the threat.

"I have friends!" He shouted in desperation. "Friends who will find me! They won’t give up until they do!"

"I’m sure they won’t," she offered him a cold smile. "Unfortunately, until that time, you are still my guest."

"I ain’t your guest!" He shouted. "I’m a caged animal!"

"Well you are certainly behaving like one," Laurel answered and then let out a small sigh. "Still, we can’t let you remain in that squalor indefinitely," she sighed, glancing at the state of the room he was meant to occupy. "Get dressed Chris and we’ll go for a walk while I have your room dealt with."

Chris felt confused because she had relented so easily and reminded himself that if he wanted to get out of this room, he would have to cooperate. "Get dressed?" He looked at her, still a little taken back by her sudden agreement to let him out.

"I’m assuming your tantrum had not reached the clothes in your wardrobe so if you would clothe yourself appropriately, I will instruct Mr Zhang to let you out of the room."

"Why?" Chris asked suspiciously.

"Because," Laurel said with a little smile. "There is something I would have you see."

* * *

Chris tugged at the collar of the tuxedo he was forced to wear and was once again bombarded with memories of what Ella had put him through before he discovered that she had killed Sarah and Adam. He glanced over his shoulder and saw Mr Zhang watching his every move as they left the corridor. He had notdoubt that if he made one wrong move towards Laurel, the big man would shoot him with the gun he held aimed at Chris’ back. Begrudgingly, Chris decided that he was just happy to be out of the room for the moment to even contemplate the thought of escape, at least until he knew more about the place of his captivity.

Upon reaching the end of the corridor, the cheering that Chris had heard earlier seemed to grow louder and more intense. He wondered why she was dressed this way and started to realise as they left the corridor which emptied out into a large room which looked strangely reminiscent of some of the training rooms, he had remembered from his days at the Academy. He saw all the equipment that went with such training like punching bags, floor mats and the like. The room was empty but it seemed to have a larger entrance that led elsewhere through which Laurel was leading him.

"What is this?" He asked, unable to deny that his curiosity was getting the better of him. He still could not see any windows to give him some idea of where he was or what time it might have been.

"It’s our sparring room." Laurel said easily, noticing the interest even though he was still too new too fully understand what it was she would required of him when the time came. His first response would be refusal. It always was. However, time would erode that resistance.

"What is this some kind of fighting school or something?" He asked as they cut through the place and exited through the large wooden doors on the other side of the room. She waited until he opened it as she was too crafty to allow him the advantage by taking her hostage. Chris frowned at his helplessness but until the opportunity presented itself. He would have to ride this out for the moment.

"More or less," she said evasively and let her eyes moved up and down the length of him as he looked around the room, trying to understand what she had in store for him. Damn, she thought to herself, he had been a beautiful man in his own clothes but in the tuxedo he was wearing, he could melt the resolve of any woman who cast her gaze on him. Laurel had never wanted any man as she wanted Chris Larabee but she was not unmindful of the fact that he was here to make her a lot of money and until she had him fully in control, she would not presume to make any advances upon him.

"I must say Chris," She found herself unable to resist commenting. "You do wear a tuxedo well. I am rather surprised."

"You insisted." He grumbled, unhappy that he was forced into this get up. He would prefer his own clothes. The cheering was louder now, it filled the room with its roar and Chris had an idea that whatever was its source, it was coming from the next room.

"Well the occasion demanded it," she replied, aware that he was still searching for a way to escape even if the possibility seemed rather remote at the moment.

Chris stepped through the doors first and was greeted with an explosion of sound, masked initially by the thick stone walls of the previous room. Above him was night sky, with a canvas of stars above him, which went a long way to settling the discourse that had been running through him earlier on. Taking a deep breath of the cool night air, Chris felt the heated emotions that had made him so savage come under control a little and for the first time in hours, he felt some semblance of his normal equilibrium returning to him. Only after he had regained some sense of control and had remembered that he was still a prisoner, did Chris remember to take stock of where he was. There was only one word that could be described as he surveyed the scene before him.

_Arena._

It looked like an amphitheatre from Roman times, carved into the rock floor of a canyon. Spectators were gathered around the circular hole in the ground, all dressed up in finery with waiters moving up and down the aisles, serving expensive bottles of wine. They peered into the ring below them and as Laurel led him there with Mr Zhang having moved in close enough for Chris to occasionally feel the brush of the hard gun barrel against his back. No doubt, the man was reminding Chris that just because they were out in the open did not mean he was any less a prisoner than he had been when he was confined in his room earlier.

Most people who saw Laurel coming, stood out of her way and those who did not offer polite greeting while keeping in mind the formidable bulk of Mr Zhang who was always close by. It was obvious that she was in charge of this place and by the number of patrons in the stands, cheering with exultant looks in their eyes, filled with lust for blood and savage fervour, he guessed it was extremely popular. Laurel led them through the amphitheatre to what appeared to be her private box, which gave her the best view of the match currently taking place within the ring. Chris let his gaze move across the crowd, more interested in their reaction and how they would come to such a place for this kind of entertainment.

The entertainment was two men who were presently fighting it out on the floor of the ring. One opponent was an enormous Indian who was way taller than Buck and Buck was tallest of all the seven and almost as wide as Josiah. His opponent was Caucasian and just as powerful looking with thick veined arms and a big black moustache which incidentally was the only hair on his face since he was bald. Both men were engaged in nothing less than bare knuckle fist fighting, slugging it out for all it was worth, with blood spurting from broken flesh as each strike was made.

Chris watched just as mesmerised as the rest of the crowd for a moment as the two combatants fought for what were literally their lives. The sound of flesh against flesh echoed thought the ring and incited a more fervent roar of applause with each new gush of blood. The Indian was a force to be reckoned with, his large arms swinging like jackhammers, each blow filled with power and force until the enemy was reeling back, unable to fend them off any longer. Chris found himself staring at the display of pugilistic brutality, thinking to himself that the Indian was slow. The man concentrated too much on physical strength to down an enemy instead of making his blows count. He could get the same results with carefully delivered strikes, rather than the repeated succession of hits that was merely wearing his opponents endurance.

Had he been fighting someone who knew what was doing, the Indian would not have lasted this long. Fortunately, his present opponent did not seem up to the task of launching an intelligence offensive, let alone a capable defensive and was being worn down with each blow that connected with his jaw. Chris did not give him much time that he could remain conscious.

"He’s done." Chris found himself commenting.

"Not quite yet." Laurel responded.

"Aren’t you going to stop it?" He looked at her. "The Indian’s got him beat. He’s done." Chris was expecting whomever was referring this contest to emerge from the shadows and draw the fight to its conclusion.

"You are correct Chris," she met his eyes with pure innocence. "He is done but the fight is not quite over yet."

Just as Chris realised what she meant by that remark, he saw the bald man crumble to the floor. His face was barely recognisable through the blood and the pulpish flesh of his battered face. The Indian paused a moment, breathing hard and looked up at the crowd. His face was frenzied, almost maniacal with savagery and as he bared his teeth to the crowd, he uttered a loud, primeval howl. The crowd became absolutely wild and they broke out into a loud chant, almost rhythmic in its synchronosity and sounding just as primeval as the braying indulged by the Indian and it was not hard to discern what they were demanding in such unison.

_Kill. Kill. Kill._

With the verdict given, the Indian wasted no time and Chris watched in rising horror as he saw the Indian straddle the fallen man and slip his thick arm under his neck.

"Stop it." Chris demanded. 

"The vote is not up to me Chris." Laurel replied coolly, more or less expecting the reaction from him. He was after all a former lawman but what he had done to his room following the dosage he had been given was more or less stripping that veneer of morality away from him, like the layers of an onion. He had not reached the place that would put him in the same place as her star attraction but it would not be long now.

Chris turned sharply to the ring. He felt his stomach hollow as he saw the final act of the play coming to its conclusion when with one sharp twist, a squelch of snapping bone that was masked by the sound of the roaring crowd around them, ended the fight most decisively. The body in the large Indian’s hands went slack and remained still as the winner released him, much to the delight of the paying audience.

"This was murder!" Chris swore in disgust.

"Really?" Laurel met his gaze. "I thought it was giving the audience what they wanted."

"Audience?" He retorted, glaring at the people in the stands in their fancy clothing, who probably never worked a day in their lives. "This ain’t no audience! This is a bunch of rich folk, who are so bored with their lives, they’ve got to watch this to feel even remotely alive!"

"That may be true," Laurel nodded, impressed at his insight but his mind was not what she wanted of him. "However, they’re willing to pay me and that is how I created this place." She gestured to the amphitheatre and everything else that went with. "Come on Chris, that there is my star attraction." She glanced at the Indian. "He brings in more kills than any of the fighters I have in my little games."

"I don’t see how," Chris drawled, unable to resist commenting despite himself. "He ain’t that good. He doesn’t think when he fights, he just hits like some kind of a battering ram. Smart man and not necessarily a stronger one could take him down easy."

"Like you for instance?" She asked.

Chris looked at her sharply and understood at last why he was here. "You’re absolutely crazy if you think that I’m going to fight in there like some prized bull!"

"Oh come on Chris," she leaned closer to him. "You didn’t find it all that offensive did you?" She challenged him in that voice again. The one that slipped into the dark place and inspired the dark emotions he had felt not too long ago. He could smell her skin close to him and revelled in her perfume. He wondered at that moment what it would like to have her go down on him, to picture that smug expression pleasuring him just before he took her. 

What the hell was happening to him?

He pulled back from her, feeling beads of sweat on his skin, as the crowd around him became overwhelming. The roar of the crowd was deafening as they cheered the next fighters coming into the ring after the body of the last loser had been removed and the Indian had stepped out of the stage. He was a married man for God’s sake! He loved his wife. Instinctively, Chris began fingering the wedding band around his finger, as if he needed to make him remember Mary. He had to remember Mary because there was something growing inside of him that was threatening him to make him forget her. 

"You might as well let me go," he said hoarsely, once he had regained his composure. "Cause I am never fighting in that ring like an animal."

"Of course you will," Laurel answered with complete confidence. "You will do it because deep inside yourself, in that place you’re too afraid to look at, what you just saw was tantalising. I brought you here because I know that you can be the best that has ever been inside this ring. You are quintessential hunter Chris Larabee."

"No!" He stood up from his seat and saw Zhang brandishing the gun in a warning for him to sit down since Laurel was not done with him yet. "I am not a killer."

"You may delude yourself with that trinket you wear around your finger," she glanced at the wedding ring that he was fingering with even more insistence now. "But we both know that you  _are_  a killer. You move like a hunter, like someone whose always on the prowl, whose watching and waiting for trouble to come and perfectly content to strike back at those with the audacity to try and  _attack_  you. Isn’t that what Mr Tanner was for?"

"Vin is my friend!" Chris returned, wondering why he was being so defensive. He knew who he was! He had no need to justify it to this woman with all her insane notions about what made him tick inside. "He ain’t around for nothing except that."

"I think we know otherwise," she said just as smoothly, countering every word he said like it was game of thrust and parry. Her cool demeanour was a stark contrast to the agitation he was feeling even if he did not understand why he was feeling it. "Mr Tanner keeps you under control. He has from the first moment you met him. Let me guess your life for the better took place when he entered it did it not. Didn’t you tell me that you were wandering around mostly before you and Mr Tanner met in Four Corners?" 

"You don’t know what you’re talking about." He declared amidst the crowd cheering at the newest combatants battling it out in the ring below them. "Vin and I are friends, we fought together, we ride together. I trust him with my life."

"No," she shook her head with that infuriating confidence. "You trust him to keep you on the path of righteousness because without Mr Tanner’s unswerving nobility, you would be as you were before. Chris Larabee was a notorious gunslinger, with a reputation for putting a bullet in man just for looking at him wrong, isn’t that the reputation you were meant to have? You see I did my research very carefully after I selected you for my latest acquisition and it’s easy to see that Vin Tanner is your conscience. Without him, you’re what you were always meant to be, a killer."

"You don’t know anything." He growled. "Vin is my friend and you’re just trying to make me crazy with your talk! I won’t fight for you."

"Oh Chris," she shook her head disappointed. "In the end, you won’t just fight for me, you’ll die for me." 


	4. Consort

 

Vin took a swig of whisky from a bottle as he sat outside the saloon watching and waiting.

It was almost seven ago that he had been in the same place, passing the time, hating to be trapped in amber while Chris testified against Smiling Pete in the courthouse across the street. It was only seven days ago since everything had gone to hell with his disappearance. Seven days while they searched the countryside, in every small town and hole in the wall settlement they could think of, trying to find some trace of their leader only to find nothing. Vin had pushed himself harder and traveled farther than any of the seven because he could not rest knowing that Chris was out there because he had failed to watch his back at a time when the gunslinger had needed him most.

He knew he was being ridiculous. That it was not really his fault that Chris had been kidnapped. Vin could not have perceive the real threat that Laurel Chase had posed to him, no matter how much unease he had felt. However even though the words were repeated to him by both Alex and the other members of the seven, they did not sink in and he was still left with this feeling of failure that would not go away until he found what had happened to Chris.

More specifically what was happening to him  _now_.

Vin swallowed the amber liquid in his mouth, allowing it to warm him as he continued his vigil, hoping that it would at least dull the edge of his memory enough for him to forget the look in Mary’s eyes when he told her that Chris was missing. It was not the first time Chris Larabee had been in trouble. Two years ago, it was Mary who had raised the alarm when a trip by Chris had turned out to be a hellish tenure in a prison as Inmate 78 until the seven freed him. However, she took the news with surprising calm, remaining strong as only Mary Travis Larabee was capable while inside, her heart was bleeding with anguish. Vin had promised he would bring Chris back to her and he did not break his promises.

"Mr Tanner," Ezra Standish broke the silence as he sat next to the tracker, watching the movements through town with just as much scrutiny although with considerably less intensity. "This is not your fault."

"I was there," Vin replied shortly, his eyes still fixed on the street, always watching. "I should have seen it coming."

"How?" Ezra questioned. "You had no way of knowing that the lady was a danger to Mr Larabee. It was he who allowed her into his room, not you. What happened then was unfortunate but nothing that could have been preventable had you the foresight to know that the lady was in mind to kidnap Mr Larabee."

"This ain’t no time for a man to be missing from home." Vin pointed out. "Mary needs him now more than ever and thanks to me, God only knows where he is. If he is even still alive."

"Thinking like that will not aid our situation, Vin." Ezra declared firmly.

That drew a reaction from Vin as he met Ezra’s eyes briefly. The gambler seldom used first names and did so only when he was trying to make a point as a friend. "You’re right." Vin frowned, hating to admit that truth but it still nagged at him. "I just got a real bad feeling about this Ezra," Vin confessed for the first time to anyone. "I don’t know what it is but I keep thinking that if we don’t find him soon, we may never find him at all."

"The circumstances of his disappearance are strange," Ezra had to admit. "However, Mr Larabee has many enemies in his past of which we are unaware, Miss Chase may be employed by any number of them if indeed she was the culprit."

"She was the one all right," Vin retorted because of  _that_  he had no doubt. It was one of the few things he could say with absolute certainty. "I know it."

Suddenly, the rumble of horses approaching the centre of town captured the attention of both men as they immediately averted their eyes to the source of the commotion. The stage coached tore through the heart of Vesta City, which was clear and sunny today, devoid of the dust storm of three days ago that had hindered Vin’s efforts so greatly when he had been attempting to ascertain which direction those who had taken Chris had gone. Having found nothing during their search in the last two days, Vin had chosen to return to Vesta City since it appeared that the stagecoach driver who had brought Miss Chase to the town when he and Chris were here was the only viable lead they had.

Despite what the driver had told Mr Bishop at the stage depot about having to take passengers onward from Vesta City, Vin did not believe that was the case. In order to move Chris, Laurel would have most likely utilised the wagon and horses that had been purchased from the livery stable. Vin could not imagine the woman risking discovery by attempting to leave Vesta City with Chris in the stagecoach. Vin stood from the step of that he and Ezra had been occupying and glanced at the gambler.

"Get Buck." Vin replied, his eyes never moving away from the quarry as the stage came to a halt in front of the local hotel.

Ezra nodded and hurried into the saloon as Vin strode across the street, keeping his gaze fixed on the man who was presently disembarking from his perch at the front of the stage before fronting the carriage in order to get the door for his passengers. The stage driver was a man in his late forties with a weathered face, a balding hair and a bulbous nose that sat above a thick moustache that was graying like the rest of him. His offsider clambered onto the roof and was beginning the process of unloading the luggage for those whose journey has come to a close. He did not see Vin as the sharpshooter approached him from behind.

Without giving the man any warning, Vin grabbed hold of his elbow and spun him around.

"What the hell…" he started to swear as Vin forced him against the side of the carriage, in no mind for making small talk as he unloaded his Winchester and shoved it into the lump of the man’s Adam’s apple.

"What’s going on?" The other on the top of the stage demanded as nervous passengers began filtering out from the other side of the carriage.

"Nothing that you need concern yourself about." Ezra Standish remarked smoothly as he and Buck Wilmington closed in on Vin and the driver. "If you consider attending to your duties as you were," he said slickly, "I am sure we will not be detaining your companion for much longer."

The man was about to protest but when he saw the guns carried not only by the gambler but his taller companion who was wearing a scowl just as deeply as his moustache. Deciding to give it up all together, he nervously resumed the task of unloading luggage once again. 

Ezra and Buck took up flanking positions next to Vin and his prey before Buck said with a cool smile. "He’s all yours Vin."

Vin tipped his hat at the lawman before he turned his steely blue eyes on the driver, who by now was becoming extremely anxious over the gun that was held so closely to his skin.

"I got some questions for you," Vin said in the maddeningly cool voice of his that did more to unnerve his prey than the Winchester he handled so formidably. "You answer them, you walk free. You don’t, I put you down here and now. We understand each other?" He asked.

The driver swallowed hard and nodded in response, not about to argue the point with a Winchester aimed at him.

"Good," Vin replied. "A week ago, you came to town. You brought a woman and Chinaman with you on the stage?"

The driver’s eyes widened in recognition immediately and Vin supposed that was understandable, neither Laurel Chase nor Mr Zhang was very hard to miss or to forget.

"You know who I’m talking about." Vin answered, catching the look of familiarity over those he was asking after. "Where did you take them after they left her?"

"To the next stop." The man said anxiously, licking his lips as he responded. Vin shifted his gaze to Ezra who shook his head ever so slightly, which was indication that he agreed with Vin’s assertion that the man was lying.

"I’d tell a better story than that." Buck said helpfully having made the same deduction as much ease. "My friend here has an itchy trigger finger and you wouldn’t want to see what happens to a skull when that gun goes off."

His eyes widened ever further upon that suggestion and he stared at Vin, trying to decide if the tracker would be crazed enough to carry out that threat. Just to verify that he was, Vin pulled back the lever action trigger just a little further, the metal creaking as he added pressure upon it.

"What do you want to know?" He asked, his voice little more than a squeak when he finally chose not to take the gamble.

"The woman and her friend," Vin repeated himself. "Where did you take them?"

"I didn’t take them anywhere after they got here," the man exclaimed after a moment, not all happy to make that revelation but given the choice of being shot to the death here and facing the wrath of the Chinaman at a much later date, he would take the latter. "They paid me a hundred dollars to say that I took them on. I don’t know how they left Vesta City."

Vin exchanged glances with Ezra and Buck, since the man’s words more or less confirmed what he had suspected all along. "Okay," Vin said quietly. "I believe you on that score so let’s see if you can do better with my next question."

"Jesus Mister!" The man implored, terrified of being coerced into supplying information in this way. The Chinaman was not someone he wanted to meet in his nightmares and he was certain that if the news reached the oriental of where the tracker had got his information, then he would be done for. "He’ll kill me if I keep talking to you."

"He ain’t here," Vin hissed automatically. "I am and I’ll kill you right now if you don’t." He retorted, jamming the gun barrel in the driver’s throat and drawing a raspy cough from the man.

Buck and Ezra stood by, watching dispassionately as the man suffered his interrogation. Around them, some people were watching the exchange, others moved on to avoid becoming embroiled in any forming danger while in the nearby distance, Sheriff McMasters stood watch, ensuring that this did not go any further since Vin had informed him earlier what the lawmen from Four Corners had intended. McMasters who knew and respected Chris Larabee had allowed them free license to get the information leading to the whereabouts of the gunslinger, within reason of course.

"Where did you pick them up?" Vin asked. If he did not have a destination for the lady’s progress from Vesta City then he would have to backtrack along her journey, hopefully explaining where she had originated from in the first place.

"At Sparta." The man responded meekly. Any effort that might have remained in him to keep silent about what he knew had dissolved now. What he had already told the tracker was enough to get him killed, a little more was not going to carry much weight to change that outcome.

"What were you doing at Sparta?" Ezra stepped into the fray now, recognising the name quite well. "It is hardly a stopover for the stage."

"It was a detour." The driver answered. "Someone paid the stage to stop there, it was one of those under the table deals between me and the depot master. We split the money to make a stop at Sparta to pick up the woman and the Chinaman."

"You better not be lying to me," Vin declared, pressing the gun into his throat to produce another series of coughs from the man, just to make his point.

"I ain’t lying!" He shouted out desperately, tears running down his eyes as he tried to speak through his hacking. "I swear!" He implored once again, wishing to be away from this crazed mountain man with the unreadable blue eyes and well placed Winchester.

"Alright," Vin let him go, believing the driver was just terrified enough to be telling him the whole truth. Upon releasing the man, the driver quickly pushed past Buck and Ezra, determined to put enough distance between himself and his interrogator by making straight for the saloon. Vin watched him go and decided that what he had put the man through was reason enough for him to get a drink.

"Okay," Vin regarded the others. "I guess we’re taking a ride to Sparta." He said with a hint of uncertainty. Despite himself, the information garnered from the driver did give him cause for concern. The Texan thought he was familiar with most of the towns in the Territory. As a bounty hunter, he had reason to travel through most of the smaller towns in the region and the bigger ones were known by reputation. There were always the little watering holes known only to outlaws and Vin had a sense of those too. However, Sparta was a name he had not heard before and that was a little surprising.

"Ezra," he remarked as the trio walked away from the stage now that their business there was done. "You sounded like you knew this Sparta." Vin looked at the gambler.

"Well I know _of_ it." Ezra confessed, admitting the emergence of that name had surprised him somewhat. "In truth, I hardly believed it even existed but some of my more successful colleagues have confessed to sampling its delights on occasion."

"Is it a town?" Buck asked because like Vin, he had never heard of the place either.

"Not in the true sense of the word." Ezra tried to explain, remembering what scant information had been imparted to him about its locality. "It’s meant to be three days ride from here. I am told it is not quite a town or a community as such but rather like a collection of gambling houses and bordellos. Consider it a more refined version of Wickestown. Those who claim to have come from there were most sated individuals since almost everything in the place is catered for those who are willing to pay handsomely for their pleasures, no matter what it is. I suppose if one must put a term to it, Sparta is the playground of sinful pleasures."

"Sinful pleasures?" Buck looked at the gambler as they made their way to the livery in order to ride to this fabled place.

"Anything your hearts desire, if you can pay for it." Ezra declared. "Whatever vice, no matter how unsavory or bizarre, they say that Smeets those needs."

"How does a place like that exist without anyone knowing about it?" Vin asked, unable to believe that what was starting to sound like a modern day Sodom and Gomorrah was able to function without the interference of the law.

"Well if the entertainment’s provided there are as expensive as they are, I am certain the individual who runs it is not incapable of bribing the correct officials from turning a blind eye. If no one is being harmed, a bureaucrat might find it a most agreeable arrangement." Ezra remarked and Vin supposed that such a thing was not impossible. Lawmen were just as susceptible to the lure of riches as the next person. There was no reason to believe that wearing a badge removed the seeds of avarice.

"So we can’t be sure if Laurel Chase is from Sparta or was just on her way home after doing who knows what up there." Buck frowned, disliking the fact that their only lead was centred around a place that would be extremely difficult for them to penetrate.

"It’s a place to start." Vin pointed out. "Maybe somebody down there knows who she is. At the moment, all we got is a name, nothing else. The judge is running a check on her but that’s going to take time and I don’t know how much of it Chris has left."

"Are we making our journey alone?" Ezra inquired, referring of course to the rest of their number who was still in Four Corners, keeping an eye on things while the three of them searched for Chris.

"Not yet." Vin said after a moment’s consideration. "Let’s see what we’re up against when we get to Sparta. Could be just like Buck says, she may have been passing through. No reason to bring Josiah, Nathan and JD out that way until we’re sure where Chris is."

"Well," Ezra said with a sigh. "One thing we will need if we go to Sparta is money. If the place is as exclusive as I have been led to believe, we will not learn anything without an adequate supply of pin money. Unfortunately, what I have in my boot will hardly suffice nor what I believe you gentlemen have in the bank for your ranching venture." Ezra who had been doing the accounting for the Lucky 7 horse ranch which was jointly owned by Chris, Vin and Buck was in a better position to make that determination that its two principals.

"That ain’t a problem," the tracker said evasively.

"Oh you got a gold mine somewhere?" Buck retorted with a raised brow.

"Not exactly," Vin cleared his throat, not wishing to divulge the resource he had at his disposal even though he did not like to use it. However, if they were going to Sparta when money was needed in abundance, he supposed he did not have a choice, he would have to utilise it just this once.

"Come on," Buck nudged him the ribs, unable to keep himself from ribbing the tracker when he got all cryptic like this. The man was so damn uncomfortable that Buck simply delighted in the look of discomfiture on that normally unflappable mask. "What is it."

"Yes Mr Tanner," Ezra was now staring at him with just as much curiosity. "Do tell how you intend overcoming this particular hurdle."

Vin frowned and decided he had no choice but to come out and say it. "Well I  _did_  marry a girl with money you know and cause Alex has my name, I can use some of her money when I need it. Don’t particularly like to but seeing that we don’t have much choice I guess I’m gonna have to. All I got to do is wire the bank in Four Corners and they’ll tell the Vesta City bank to let us have what we need."

"Well alright," Buck grinned, patting Vin on the back. "Who’d thought our boy would marry so well."

"Knock it off," Vin grumbled, hating the entire subject.

"Mr Tanner," Ezra chuckled, enjoying Vin’s chagrin to no end. "I had no idea you were such a fortune hunter."

Vin swung at him.

* * *

He woke up that morning and had trouble remembering his wife’s name was Mary or Sarah.

He had remembered sitting up in his bed in a cold sweat; beads of sweat snaking down his body as he wondered where the memory had disappeared to in his mind. How could he make such a mistake? Sarah was gone; she had died so long ago and had taken a good part of him with her. Then came Mary, Mary who was his reason for being, the impetus that made him believe that his life was not over, merely turning a new leaf. Chris struggled to think clearly but his mind was a fog and he had difficulty remembering other things too. Important things began to fade, things he was trying desperately to cling to. Like a boy child whose name was...was it Adam or Billy?

Instead of spending his time escaping his cell, Chris was now more focussed on keeping his memories of the people he knew. Mary remained clearest in his mind even though some times she faded away and was replaced by Sarah. Whenever he lapsed that way, Chris would immediately look at his wedding ring because the band of gold also reminded him of Mary and it was Mary most of all that he was trying to keep. There were moments of perfect clarity when he would remember them all and the feeling of angry rage at wanting to escape confinement would wither away. Then there were other moments, dark and hazy when he recalled nothing but a memory of golden hair shimmering in the sunlight.

He did not want to forget them and he could not understand what was happening to him!

His mind was the most formidable tool it had and yet it kept slipping away out of his reach and he knew it was because of something she was doing to him. She, being Laurel Chase, with her poisoned words about the killer inside of him, the one that would kill indiscriminately if he let down his guard. Chris knew he was not a killer, a hunter, yes but not a killer. There was a difference. A part of him understood the game she was playing, the part that still had its wits albeit temporarily it would seem these days.

Chris knew what she wanted of him by her endless taunts and her clever dissection of his psyche. She wanted him to fight in her Arena, like some beast of burden for a paying audience and he was using every ounce of will he could muster to avoid becoming what she wanted no matter how strongly the urge was building up inside of him. The only times he was let out of his cage, he would not call his room, was when the debacle of the gladiatorial games she had inspired took place. She would have him watch every fight, see every blow thrown in order to convince him that he could cross into the ring and become a champion like no other.

Initially, the idea disgusted him for he could see nothing more revolting that beating another man to death simply for the pleasure of entertaining dilettantes who had more money than they had sense or moral fibre. However, as he saw the punches being traded and the sheer pageantry of animal power being displayed within the ring, Chris began to understand the attraction for those watching. In its own way it was hypnotic, as if one was being privy to forces of natures battling it out on neutral ground. Despite himself, he began to look forward to his outings from his cell and more disturbingly, the presence of Laurel Chase coming into his room.

He began to want her even though he hated her.

Despite his growing desire for her, the thoughts of violence that she had engendered in him terrified Chris Larabee to the core. Never in his life had he thought forcing a woman was acceptable behaviour. A man who had to take a woman by force was not a man and yet the images had imprinted themselves on his brain. When he closed his eyes and went to sleep, he dreamt about it with stark clarity until he woke up screaming. The nightmares had appeared almost from the very first night of his incarceration and while they were nowhere as terrifying as the possibility of forgetting his wife Sarah, no Mary, Chris could not imagine why they had visited him with such regularity.

He could feel it burning under his skin, this animalistic urge that would not be denied, that whispered in his ears with every waking moment until he would be driven to smash things again, just to feel some measure of peace. The destruction was somewhat liberating allowed him to vent the full torrent of rage that bubbled inside him with growing turmoil. It was more than the need for Laurel that was becoming unbearable the scent of blood when he watched the games, its salt soaked into his skin and lingered in his lungs long after the fighting was done.

He became tantalising by the brutal power of the arena and he began to envision what he might do if he were forced to take the centre stage within the ring. He wondered what it was like hear the crowd exulting in his names as he indulged a part of himself, a part of every man buried deep beneath ten thousand years of civilisation at a time when it was just him and the elements. Something primeval and naked was being surfaced inside him slowly and surely, without his understanding how it was possible to lose control when he had been so in command of it all his life. Yet there was an attraction with being able to feel unashamedly, allowing all those pent up emotions, the anger, the rage and all the passion that he fought so hard to keep under control to finally taste freedom.

Without even knowing how it had happened, Chris Larabee started wanting to fight.

The more Laurel brought him to the arena, the more he became intoxicated with its fever. He fought it as hard as he could without understanding how much the deck was stacked against him to begin with, never realising for one moment that the battle had been lost, long before he had even begun to fight it.

* * *

The roar of the crowd called to him like a siren song, heightening his senses and making him aware of all the blood that was pounding in his veins. He could hear each viscous gurgle of fluid surging through him as he stepped into the ring the first time, looking up at the faces above him, all curious as to how this newest acquisition would perform. To his audience, he did not seem much like a fighter at first appearance, being unusually handsome, with muscles that ran in smooth lines and possessing the singularity of soul that drew the light when he gazed at them with his dead eyes.

Chris Larabee did not know what he had been thinking when he had agreed to participate in his first combat to the death, aware only that he had yearned so much for the taste of battle, that it had become too tempting to resist. A voice inside of him, one blurred by the obscurity that seemed to plague his mind of late, tried speaking to him through the loud din of noise that rumbled throughout the amphitheater. He looked up and saw their faces, barely capable of telling one from another, knowing that in their finery of expensive clothes and jewels were mere shadows of what a human was supposed to be.

His intense coloured eyes surveyed the crowd as they coiled around him like a serpent, strangulating him with their cheers, like a snake that was eating its tail. Their cheers soon settled down and he realised that it was not for him that they cheered but rather his opponent. He glanced at the small entrance to the ring and saw the enemy approaching. He was man much larger than Chris, with thick arms, broad chest and was the kind that probably once felled wood a living. Chris studied the face, the eyes and recognised the same vacancy he was noticing in the mirror when he took the time to observe his reflection.

Bare chested with his fists wrapped tight for the business of fighting, for in this game a man’s hands were his tools and despite the brutality of what they were about to engage in, the provisions for the next fight had to be made by this simple little precaution. He glanced at his own hands and saw the same bandages, trying to remember why he was wearing them again and for that matter what had inspired him to do this.

_This is wrong._

The voice spoke as if mustering every once of strength that remained.

_Do this and you’ll prove she was right, that you are killer._

She. Chris looked up and searched for her, feeling that glazed split in his chest suddenly become one as he found her. She was looking down at him, wearing a smile he knew without doubt was just for him. Her blue eyes sparkled with something he could not quite grasp, a look he could almost consider satisfied and he felt himself swelling with pride knowing that he pleased her. Strange that he ought to feel that way, Chris thought.

Didn’t he hate her before?

Didn’t he hate her still?

He could not tell for certain, only knowing that he liked looking at her. He liked the certainty of knowing that when she smiled at him, it was for purposes other than just an expression of pleasure. She cared for him. Of course she did, Chris told himself even though that annoying voice inside his head was skepticalof this fact. In truth, it was almost scornful of his weakness. How could she be considered a weakness, she with the shimmering gold hair…

Not, not gold hair. Where had that come from?

That was silly, he told himself once he discarded the stray thought. She did not have gold hair, she had dark hair, mahogany like the finest wood and the deepest shade of brown that was almost red. She wanted him and if he won for her, she would be his.

_You don’t want her._

Chris closed his eyes because he did not want to hear that voice. He pushed it father back into the dark recesses of his mind, banishing it there forever as he turned around and faced his opponent as the crowd dulled into silence and he stared at man who stood much taller than him and looked like someone else he knew. Then he remembered. Buck. This man looked like Buck, possessing that same moustache but nowhere the same charm. He glowered at Chris, hunching forward slightly positioning himself to attack.

Buck would not attack him. None of the seven would. The seven. The number lingered in his mind for a spell and with it came images of camaraderie and feelings of contentment. There should have been someone watching his back and instinctively, he looked over his shoulder and wondered why Vin was not there. He did not have much time to ponder the question for no sooner than he had looked behind him, he felt a body barreling into him and sent him sprawling backwards. The crowd exploded with a deafening roar as he hit the ground, swirling around him like water being poured into a glass.

He felt the grit tear at his elbows and his bare back before a hand grabbed him by the neck and started to lift him off the ground. As he felt the intense pressure compressing the walls of his throat, he reached for the arms that held him in order to keep his neck from snapping. Pulling his legs inward, he kicked both of them out hard, the heels of both feet slamming into a chest that was not his. He heard a sharp exhale of pain before he was dropped to the ground once more. He made contact with the dirt long enough to roll quite comfortably onto his haunches and contemplated the prey for a moment before he lunged forward.

Barely giving his opponent time to recover, Chris crossed the space between them into easy strides and punched the man in the throat, immediately sending both the enemy’s hands to his neck as he began to gasped in pain. Taking advantage of the man’s distraction, Chris delivered another crippling blow, this time to the soft flesh above his kidney and watched his opponent let out another cry of pain. The strike to his throat had done exactly what Chris had anticipated and knew it was possible he might have crushed the enemy’s windpipe.

_Finish this quickly._

That inner voice commanded him with almost weary patience and for once Chris was pleased to oblige. He kicked his foot into back of the enemy’s knee, bringing him down immediately. The large hulk of a man dropped to the ground on one knee as he attempted to put up some semblance of a fight. He lashed wildly at Chris as he went down and Chris circled him slowly, aware that his eyes were filled with tears from his inability to breathe. Despite his efforts to fight, Chris could tell by his raspy breathing that he had yet to overcome that hurdle.

The crowd was screaming so loudly that he could barely hear himself thinking and Chris was rather surprised to find that he liked how they sounded. With each display of his physical prowess, their noise grew louder until it filled his world and emptied it of everything else. He glanced briefly at Laurel and saw that she was smiling even wider before turning his attention to his prey whose blood he could smell. Chris circled to the front and then kicked high into the man’s face, sending him backwards, hearing bone crunch beneath his boot as he watched in slow motion as the enemy fell flat on his back, blood gushing from a ruined face. There was no need to go any further, he thought.

He was done.

The final strike sent the audience into a frenzy and Chris raised his hands in a victory, working the crowds as they screamed and chanted his name, feeling the adulation glide over him like water soaking the skin. He reveled in it and felt empowered by it all, thoroughly enjoying his notoriety when suddenly, he heard the crowd’s cries for his name evolved into something else. They were not calling out his name any more and as he listened closely, what he had done splashed over his skin like cold water with the recognition of one word.

_Kill. Kill. Kill._

Dear God! He spun around that far away voice suddenly became very loud in his head as the clarity he had been devoid of returned like the peal of a clanging bell inside his mind.  _What have you done?_  He could not breathe, could not understand how he had let it overcome him! He took a step towards the man and prayed that he had not done what it appeared he had. Forgetting all about her, he forced himself to look as if witnessing what he had wrought was a part of the punishment. His opponent did not move and that final blow that had been struck was the one that would ensure he would never move again. His blood spilled into the sand, creating a sheet of red that game from the nose that had been shattered with such force that fragments of bone had sent been sent through his brain with the same devastating effect of a bullet.

Chris could not breathe.

He stood there, hearing them scream his name and he could not breathe! The enormity of what he had done hit him like a speeding locomotive and before he knew what he was doing, he was scrambling towards the enemy. God no, not the enemy, an anguished voice inside him whimpered, the  _victim_. He tried to help but there was little he could do once he examined what he had done. Blood covered his hands as he tried to feel for some signs of life and heard the crowd’s roar becoming a drone in the background he could no longer hear.

There was no hope of course. The moment he had delivered the first punch to the throat, aimed with all the rage and pent up feelings at his captivity, it had been too late. Even now, he could see the purple bruise forming under the man’s neck, all the signs of internal hemorrhaging as Nathan would say. Nathan, Chris recoiled inwardly as he thought of what the healer would say if the man had seen the act of murder he had committed. Chris stared at the blood in his hands, the blood that seeped into his skin, which he knew he could not remove even if he scrubbed his hands until they were raw.

_Kill! Kill! Kill!_

The cry of the bloodthirsty crowd screamed in his ears until finally Chris could bear it no more. Getting to his feet, he looked up and searched the faces until he saw her again. She was no longer smiling as she gazed into the ring, leaning over to Mr Zhang, whispering something in the lackey’s ear. Chris felt bile sneaking up his gullet, threatening to make him puke his guts out because for one split second, he had lost everything that he was and became the animal she had accused him of being.

* * *

"I was afraid it was too soon." Laurel remarked to Mr Zhang as she saw Chris Larabee, kneeling prone next to the man he had inadvertently killed. A crown of blood adorned the man’s head following the killing blow that Chris had delivered to his opponent. She saw the former lawman, very clearly aghast at what he had done and frowned with annoyance that the treatment had yet to elevate him to the place he needed to be in order to become a true creature of the Arena.

"Is he ruined?" Zhang asked, watching Chris dispassionately, mourning over his victim much to the crowd’s distaste. If Chris intended compassion from this audience he would be waiting for a long time, Zhang thought as he saw the faces of impatience watching the gunfighter.

"No," Laurel shook her head. "He’s been broken in a little early but he’ll be fine in the long run."

She caught the gaze of the referee who had been watching the battle from the sidelines and immediately gestured for him to act. The man, who was armed, approached the centre of the ring and prodded Chris with his foot. The gunslinger glared at him with nothing less than hatred in those intense eyes and then straightened up to turn his gaze upon her. For a moment, Laurel held his stare, aware that should he ever be free of whatever she had pumping in his veins, he would kill her and have not as much conscience about doing as he had over this stranger he had never known until their battle today.

The referee, a loyal servant named Cobb, not unlike Mr Zhang beside her, jabbed the gun discreetly into Chris’ bare ribs, inciting him to remove himself from inside the arena in order to be repatriated to his cell. Chris merely offered Cobb a sidelong glance of acknowledgment, before his chest swelled with controlled anger, which seemed to indicate that Chris’ dosage needed to be increased for the period of aggression to lengthen.

"My Lady," Mr Zhang found himself commenting, catching the same vengeful look in Chris’ eyes and feeling an uncharacteristic sliver of fear at the rage he saw there. "I do not presume to question you on matters not of my understanding but I do worry about this man."

Laurel regarded her servant. "Why?" She inquired, one eyebrow cocked in interest.

"I feel that he is dangerous My Lady," he volunteered. "Much more so than anyone we have ever taken before."

A day of surprises, Laurel thought to herself. She had not expected Chris to volunteer to fight during her visit to his cell following his latest dosage. It had been something of a surprise when he had said he needed to do something and she had half jokingly offered the Arena as away to expend his energy since his continuing to smash furniture would not do. When Chris had agreed, she thought it might be premature and while he had surprised her by killing so soon, it did not surprise her how quickly and effectively he had done it. He was everything that she had envisioned he would be. Fast and deadly. The man he had killed had been a veteran of many battles and never had she seen him taken down so quickly, not even when he battled the Indian during their sparring matches. Chris had been right when he observed that a smart man who knew how to fight could prevail against one who used brute force and nothing else.

And now Mr Zhang had added an interesting twist on her day with his confession.

"Why is that?" She asked genuinely curious to know since Zhang very rarely expressed opinions. She was accustomed to his obedience without question and while she had no desire to see that change, it was always interesting to hear what he had to say when he felt it important enough to speak his mind.

"There is saying among my people," Zhang remarked, staring at Chris Larabee as Cobb led him out of the Arena and for the moment at least, the crowd had settled into silence, awaiting the next round of combatants. "When one enters a place of darkness, it is wise to move carefully, for in your stumbling you make wake a dragon."

"Very colourful." Laurel replied, amused but unimpressed. "And this means what?"

"It means," he bowed his head. "That Mr Larabee might be a place of darkness we do not know and if we continue what we do without caution, we may wake a dragon that we cannot control."

* * *

Chris sat in the confines of his glorified cage, staring at the blood of his hands, still trapped in disbelief at what she had made him do in the arena. He had killed a man for no good reason other than because he felt an insatiable need to vent the aggression he had  _always_  been able to control. Chris was staggered by how easy Laurel had managed to break the moral conditioning under which he lived his life and put him to work like a beast in the field. Despite his clarity of mind at the moment, Chris knew with horror that it would not last and the same fever that made him go out into that ring and behave like a savage animal would return and God help him, there was nothing he could do to stop it.

Despite these moments of lucidity, Chris knew that there was something happening to him that he could not explain. Even though he was more or less himself again, he could still feel the fog pressing against the fragile walls of his restraint, threatening to overwhelm him at a moment’s notice, no matter how much will he impressed upon it. He had started to understand that this was being  _done_  to him, even if he could not fathom how. Chris could feel the power in his veins. He could feel himself get stronger and faster. The blow that Chris had delivered to his opponent in the ring should have disabled him enough to keep him from getting up, not crush his windpipe like it was paper and killing the man.

Chris could not be certain whether or not that had been his intention in the first place. His mind had been so far away from where it should have been at the time that he was not certain of anything any more. How long had it been since he had seen Mary? Was it days or weeks? He could not be sure because when he was allowed to venture outside it was always dark and his prison had no windows so the passage of time could not be accurately charted. He tried to keep her in his mind but the memory of his wife was fading fast and he knew there would come a time that all she would be to him was this ring on his finger.

He paced the floor of the room, feeling the pressure build under his skin as his mind became more and more enraged. The space between the walls seemed to shrink and suddenly Chris began to sense that tightening in his chest that made him feel closed in and unable to breathe. He felt it reaching apogee inside his body, tugging at him with its power, goading him into displaying a spectacular burst of rage.

_Why hadn’t they found him?_

His mind started to ponder that question over and over again as this icy cold tendril of panic pierced his brain with agonising pain. Where was Vin? Reliable and steady, always there at his side in a fight! Why hadn’t Vin found him yet! Why hadn’t any of them? Were they even looking? His breathing became more laboured and the rage took hold of him and tore asunder what remained of his sanity as he paused and smashed both arms into the table before him. The legs buckled under the weight of his strike, snapping wood like kindling as the tabletop dropped to the floor. Chris picked up the chair next to it and smashed the seat against the floor, taking some comfort in seeing the piece of furniture almost completely obliterated.

"Where are you!" He screamed.

There was no answer and the quiet enraged him even more and once again, he was swept on that tidal wave of destruction. Breaking, smashing, crushing with loud and shattering noises, nearly frothing at the mouth which each new crescendo of fury, he was barely self aware as he continued on this torrent of violence. Something was beginning to happen, something that was not just his thoughts racing in his head like a locomotive, stealing restraint and control with each new milestone. It was something horrible and sinister, prodding him insistently, like a splinter that was steadily burrowing through his psyche.

Chris dropped to his knees, feeling it grow stronger when suddenly he heard the jangle of keys and he looked sharply at the door to see Laurel Chase and her lackey pulling open the bars of his cage, preparing to enter. He remained still, unmoving as he watched them breach the walls of the room. Chris knew they believed him to have exhausted himself as he had done on numerous occasion when anger got the better of him and he perpetrated the destruction similar to what he had just carried out a short time ago.

"Really Chris," Laurel said smugly as she surveyed the state of the room, "you must really learn to control your temper."

Chris did not answer.

He waited as she came closer, watched Zhang behind her, ever cautious of any harm that might come to his Lady. However, his protection was flawed because he had no power over her and less ability to make her obey his guidance even when it was necessary. She closed in on Chris with her expensive dress rustling with the sounds of satin against the floor. Chris kept his head down and his eyes hidden as she narrowed the distance between them with Mr Zhang following close behind.

"You must not feel too badly Chris," she cooed with satisfaction and paused a few steps away from him. "You performed superbly, much better than I had ever anticipated. Why the man you killed had been one of my best fighters and you put him down like he was nothing."

Chris was  _not_  listening to her. His rage had past a point of no return and he was lion waiting for his moment, watching for the perfect moment to strike.

"I promise you," she said almost tenderly, reaching for his hair to stroke his troubled brow. "It will become easier."

"WHAT DID YOU DO TO ME?" He roared suddenly and straightened up as he swung wide in a backhanded blow that caught her on the jaw and threw her backwards like a rag doll. Mr Zhang reacted almost immediately, going for his gun when Chris shot forward and slammed him into the near by wall before he could produce the weapon and take aim. As the back of the Oriental’s skull smashed into the hard surface, Chris threw a powerful punch into his side and then another into his face. The lawman could not count how many times he hit and punched, knowing only that it felt good and that he was striking at the enemy’s most vulnerable points.

It did not surprise him that after while, Zhang stopped fighting.

When the huge bulk of the Chinese servant slid to the ground, Chris turned around and searched for Laurel who was lying on her side still, dazed from the punch he had delivered and forgot any thoughts about escape. He ran forward and fairly dragged her up by her hair, noting that line of her jaw was forming an ugly bruise.

"WHAT DID YOU TO DO ME?" He demanded again. His voice was a feral growl that sounded barely human.

"I made you better!" She spat angrily, sinking her nails into his arm and drawing blood.

"You have to do better than that." Chris glared at her as warmth spilled down his biceps, with his barely giving it notice.

  
Laurel felt no fear even though she was properly furious at being tricked, not to mention her disappointment at Zhang for allowing Chris to get the drop on both of them.

She stared into his black eyes and knew that he was ready, that he had reached the place she needed him to be. The moral decay had finally reached optimum declination. The walls of his honour and nobility had crumbled like dust mostly because that part of him could not imagine murdering in cold blood and had receded into the darkness, horrified by what it had done and thus allowing the darker side of himself free reign. After this, she could give him all the drugs he needed and he would do  _anything_  for her.

"I made you a god," she said coldly. "I promised to make you a god and now you are one!"

"You made me a killer!" He shrieked, anguish in his face as he recalled the blood on his hands. The blood that was  _still_  on his hands.

"You were always a killer!" She said wrenching free of him.

"No!" He tried to regain control by catching her but Laurel had receded to the other side of the room and was watching him. It had been too long between dosages and he was starting to feel it.

"Its getting worse isn’t?" She asked with a smile.

He looked at her unable to understand how she knew but it was the truth. He could feel something new happening to him. It had started as a twitching under his skin, which he had chosen to ignore because he had wanted to hurt her. Chris had wanted to make her and Zhang pay for what they had done to him and so he had ignored the pain that gnawed at him little by little, growing intense as his rage started to subside, as if one had a symbiotic part with the other. Now he could feel it most acutely, stabbing at his skin, creeping, crawling, running, racing and finally burning.

He was burning.

"What did you do to me?" He asked again, his voice almost a ragged sob.

_Where was Vin! Where were the others? Why weren’t they here yet? Why hadn’t they come for him!_

"To be a god there must be sacrifices," Laurel said watching him descend slowly into the agony of withdrawal. "The old must be burned away for the new."

  
Chris dropped to his knees, hugging his body as the pain began to become almost as overwhelming as the rage. His brain started to feel as if it was cooking inside his skull and he clawed at his skin, creating marks of red as he grit his teeth and tried not to scream. "What’s happening to me?" He demanded hoarsely, starting to lose coherence the deeper he descended into agony.

"It is called Ambrosia." She replied after a moment, confident that the danger he posed was over. Soon enough, he was not going to be in any condition to be dangerous to her or anyone else. For him to understand his situation, Laurel decided she would allow him to suffer a little more so that he would appreciate the necessity of the gift she was imparting upon him. "A mixture of chemicals and animal secretions, engineered by myself in a laboratory inside this world of mine that you are now an indentured part of."

"It’s a drug?" He gasped; closing his eyes as a fresh bout of pain clenched him in its tightening grip.

Laurel was impressed. Most men would be screaming their heads off by now but not her lion, she thought with a smile. He was truly magnificent. She could not wait to take him into her bed. However for now, there was business to be attended to.

"Not quite but for your purpose, I suppose it will do." She shrugged considering it was a good a description as any. "I learnt a long time ago that I had a power over men, that they would do anything for me. I used that power quite effectively to build this little piece of paradise for myself and I created Ambrosia to allow me to keep it forever."

Chris was groaning openly, no longer being able to hide the pain that had swallowed him whole. There was still some resistance left in him for he was man of pride, not prone to surrendering when the odds were against him. His mind, like a man on a slope of sand trying to claw his way to the top, was still fighting to maintain his control or what little of it was left. He knew he was hanging over the edge of the abyss and the darkness was becoming more and more inviting.

"God!" He gasped as the agony of a thousand knives stabbed at him with the totality of excruciating pain. "What have you done to me....?" He hissed through gritted teeth.

"I need a consort to share my kingdom," she looked at him with affection, reveling in the beauty of his face as it contorted in beatific pain. "I have chosen you."

"No!" He moaned, resisting, wanting to scream but somehow forcing that cry of pain inside his throat for as long as he could. He would not allow it to escape him just yet, even though he was almost beyond reason with nerve shattering agony.

"I am NOT YOUR PET!" He spat at her. His eyes meeting hers with so much hatred that were she not secured in confidence at the magnificence of her creation in his veins, Laurel might have had cause to worry.

"You are not a pet my love," she dropped to her knees and met him at eye level. "You are my soul mate, the one made in perfection for me and even if you do not understand, it matter little to me. I will have you. Not even that insignificant band of gold you wear around your finger concerns me. Your  _little_  wife is nothing. She exists nowhere and equal to me?" Laurel started to laugh. "Never. The most she could do is amuse me while I watch her try and tame you."

Chris screamed.

It was possibly the first time in his life that he had ever screamed. The pain shot through him with renewed waves and what was left of his strength dwindled away to nothingness, dropping the walls that held the tide of agony at bay. It rushed forward in its freedom and swept him away, paralysing him with such intense visions of exquisite punishment, that he could do nothing but wail in a hoarse and guttural scream.

"Mary!" He shrieked. "Mary! God please Mary help me! Help me! Please! MARY!" He shrieked with helplessness, mindless with agony because in that last moment of clarity before he was taken from all that he was, Chris Larabee understood one thing.

He had lost her.

* * *

 

The glass shattered under her feet.

Shards of the sharp splinters sprayed out in a circle of expansion upon impact against the hard wooden floor. The water it had carried within splashed on the bare skin of her feet. The sound tore through the night, shattering the calm of the evening with that terrible nose of destruction. For a moment, Mary could not breathe as this powerful feeling of doom overcame her.

"Chris!" Mary Travis Larabee cried out.

For a split second, she had felt him in her mind, unaware of how that could be but knowing that it  _was_  her husband who had somehow through space and time called for her. Through whatever power in the universe that allowed one soul to see another and recognise instinctively, they were seeing the other half of themselves, Mary knew that she had felt Chris reaching out to her. His presence in her soul made her heart quicken and then contract with fear when she felt the utter desolation that had caused him to scream out in such an act of spiritual desperation.

"Chris." She whispered softly and felt the tears in her eyes as her heart started to pound behind her breast.

Outside the window, the moon stared at her dispassionately, seemingly unconcerned that the love of her life was gone, possibly dead. Mary had not believed the worst until this moment, when she felt that silent scream in her mind and knew it was his and his alone. She looked down at her swollen belly and wanted to weep when suddenly she noticed something tightening in her lower abdomen. At first, she put it down to the strange connection she had felt with Chris and the loss at its sudden termination. However, it soon impressed itself upon her again with more intensity.

A sliver of pain shot through her lower back with such abruptness that she let out a gasp of surprise more than agony, as it racked through her body. Mary instinctively braced herself against the nearby wall and clutched her stomach when suddenly she felt something warm against her skin that was  _not_  water. Her legs had been wet but she had attributed that moisture to the contents of the glass she dropped and allowed to shatter at her feet. However as she looked at her hand, she knew that it was nothing as benign as water.

It was blood.

The lower half of her nightgown was covered in it and the pain that she felt pressing on her lower back had become more intense. She let out a groan of pain, fear gripping her heart for her baby and staggered forward. Another stab of feeling gripped her, this time from her bare feet against the shattered fragments of glass as she took two more shaky steps forward before falling against the kitchen dining table. The table, she though absurdly as tears streamed down her cheeks from the pain, the table that Chris had been absent from for what felt like almost an eternity, not just days.

More pain.

More familiar stirring’s inside her belly that was almost as frantic as the beating in her heart. Did the baby sense the danger too? Mary left bloodied handprints on the table as the flow continued to increase making her nightdress slick with wet.

"Billy!" She screamed, trying to pull the chair but not quite managing it. Instead, she tumbled to the floor, falling heavily on her side.

Billy Travis had heard the breaking of glass and stirred out of his slumber long enough for his mother’s cry to slice through his dreams of being a great soldier like his step-grandfather and brought him immediately to wakefulness. The eight-year-old who had been told by Chris to take care of his mother before the lawman had left for Vesta City clambered out of bed and ran down the hallway. He bounded down the steps to the kitchen quickly.

"Ma!"

She did not answer.

"Ma!" He called out again. His youthful concerns making him tear through the house in search of his mother and it was not long before he found her. She was unconscious on the floor; the lower half of her cotton nightgown was red.

"Ma!" He squealed in panic and was about to run forward when he noticed the blood on her feet and by extension, the broken pieces of glass. Treading carefully, he navigated through the jagged pieces of glass and reached Mary. Her eyes were closed but he knew she was not sleeping. He could see the blood in her hand and knew that this was  _very_  bad indeed.

"Don’t worry ma," he said trying to be brave, his lips quivering as he ran his small palm on her brow and stood up. "I’ll bring help, I promise." He started to withdraw out of the room. "I promised Chris I was gonna take care of you."

With that, he turned on his heels and ran out of the house.

* * *

"Nathan!"

The healer stumbled out of bed at the sound of the heavy pounding on the door. He rubbed the sleep out of his eyes and wondered whom it was that was raising hell outside his hour of the night and then realised that only something dire could justify such an act of commotion. Pulling his pants on as he staggered out of his bedroom since he had no intention of greeting anyone in his long johns, Nathan did not bother to do the buttons up as he reached his front door. However, healer though he was, Nathan still managed to pause long enough in his journey to his front door, to grab his gun just in case it was trouble.

When he swung open the wooden door and saw who was his late night caller, Nathan realised it was trouble all right just not the kind that could be solved with a bullet.

Rain was standing before him, an expression of real panic on her face as she took a moment to catch her breath. This was not a woman who frightened easily and to see her afraid struck real concern into his heart. Nevertheless, he still noticed the sweat glistening on her bronzed skin under the moonlight and while he thought she looked exceedingly beautiful under the night sky, the fear in her eyes soon drove that appreciation away.

"Rain what is it?" Nathan demanded, his voice showing his worry at her unexpected appearance.

"Nathan, it is Mary." Rain wasted no time in saying. She was still panting because she had run all the way here after Alexandra Styles had raised the alarm that something was terribly wrong at the Larabee household. "Her time has come!"

"Already? She’s early!" He exclaimed fearfully, aware just as she, that it was weeks early for such an event even though Mary was eight months pregnant now and it would not be that much of a catastrophe if the baby was born tonight. If indeed that’s all it was because Rain had also seen her share of babies come into this world, too much for her to be fearful like this for no good reason.

"It is not that," Rain quickly revealed. "Nathan," she met his gaze with a pain stricken expression on her eyes. "There is blood. Lots of blood." She almost whispered as if saying it softly would make it sound less terrible than it was.

Nathan went ashen with understanding. "Where is she?" He demanded starting to push past Rain in his desperation to reach Mary. His healer’s instincts were taking over and the need to go the lady’s side was more than insistent.

"Nathan wait," Rain caught hold of his arm before he could start the descent down the steps that led from his home and infirmary. "You have to go bring Inez here. Mary is asking for her and she is very frightened! Alexandra is already at the house and I will be going there to assist her but you  _must_  bring Inez. With Chris Larabee gone, we need to give her some comfort and that means she must have her best friend with her."

Nathan nodded in understanding, perfectly aware of how important that request was, almost as important as tending to Mary as a healer. He delayed his departure from home for the moment, retreating back to his door in order to get appropriately dressed for the ride to the Wilmington homestead.

"I’ll bring Inez," he said placing a gentle hand on Rain’s shoulder, to assure his love that he would do this thing not only for the Mary but also to put Rain’s mind at ease. The women that loved the seven had formed a bond almost as strong as that of the seven themselves, forged by their love for unusual men. They had found friendship with each other the way the seven had found camaraderie when they first come together. "You tell Mary to hang on," he instructed firmly. "I’ll bring Inez, we can do that much for her at least."

 

 


	5. Michael

Inez Recillos Wilmington had known this was going to happen.

Ever since Vin Tanner had brought back news that Chris Larabee had disappeared, the sultry bartender had expected something of the like was looming on the horizon, circling Mary Larabee like carrion feeders waiting for the dying to come in order to feed. Although Mary had bore her husband's absence stoically because she knew how to be no other way, Inez could see the cracks forming in the normally resolute and indomitable persona of the newspaper editor. In the days following Chris' disappearance, Mary had attempted to maintain the facade of supreme confidence that Chris would come home despite the tell tale signs that the toll was starting to take its effect upon her.

As the days tumbled by, stretching the period of Chris' disappearance into something that was not so easily dismissed as a mere kidnapping, Inez had watched in dismay as she saw Mary become more and more withdrawn. While Mary did not voice it out loud, it took no feat of genius or special insight to know what it was that concerned Mary so deeply. No matter how much she might deny it, Mary simply had to be concerned about the possibility of raising a child alone if Chris Larabee was not returned to her. 

In that respect, Mary had much to fear and it was not inconceivable to assume that her present condition might have been triggered by the tremendous stress that must come with such a realisation. As strong and determined as Mary Travis Larabee could be, Inez suspected that did not have the strength to endure that trial again. She had been forced to raise Billy on her own when Stephen Travis had passed out of this world but this would be entirely different. When she had sent Billy to his grandparents, she was a businesswoman who could afford to dedicate all her time to building a life in the town of Four Corners. There was no way she could do the same if she had an infant to care for. Mary would never be able to bring herself to send a baby to its grandparents as she had done with Billy nor could she hoped to care for the child on her own and run a business at the same time, if the worst came to pass. 

And then there was losing Chris. 

Although Mary had never come out and said it and Inez expected she would never hear this admission from Mary, the love she had for Chris was far different and infinitely more powerful than that which she had felt for her first husband. When Mary and Chris Larabee were around each other, one could almost feel the smouldering passing they felt for each other exuding in all directions like a force of nature. They needed each other like they needed the air to breath and one could feel the love between them, like the sizzling heat of a furnace. 

It was the kind of relationship that Inez could appreciate mostly fully. She could barely imagine how she herself would cope if anything ever happened to Buck. 

The ride to Four Corners was silent with Nathan saying very little during the journey and Inez clinging to Elena Rose for comfort even though the child had been fast asleep in her arms for most of the trip. It was hard to make conversation when their thoughts were occupied by how Mary was faring and like the rest of the seven; Nathan was no doubt racked with guilt over being unable to be there for Chris when the gunslinger had needed it most. Perhaps Nathan's affliction was slightly less in degree then what Vin Tanner was presently enduring but it was there nonetheless and would continue to remain until they found their leader.

Above them, the full moon did not appear at all comforting with its iridescent glow across the landscape. If anything, tonight it seemed rather sinister and indifferent, lacking completely the mystique that had made poets and artists throughout the ages wish to immortalize its beauty in the expressions of their genius. Then again, Inez thought to herself, the moon was viewed through a matter of perspective and at the moment, it was not surprising that its sombre mood was a reflection of their feelings. Pulling her shawl closer around herself, Inez felt a chill that was not just the cold of the night air against her skin but rather an inward shudder of fear over what Mary was suffering at this moment. 

"Any word on Chris?" Inez asked, wishing to break the silence as the wagon rumbled closer towards the town. They were on the outskirts now and the collection of buildings that made up Four Corners could be seen in the distance against the sky. From this point, the place had an unreal quality about it that seemed beautiful. Inez knew that her perspective was rather clouded because in truth, Four Corners was hardly a glamorous place but she supposed any place one called home was beautiful as the Madonna itself.  

"We got a telegram from Vesta City," Nathan explained, a frown crossing his features as he was reminded that one of their number was missing and his wife, his pregnant wife was battling for her life because he was gone. The optimist in Nathan Jackson refused to believe that anything tragic was going to happen tonight however, when he remembered what Rain told him about how Mary was found, he could not help feeling that unshakeable belief waver somewhat.  

The healer in him wanted to know how the lady was faring especially after Rain's report that she had started hemorrhaging. While he was confident that Alexandra Tanner could handle any medical emergency involving Mary's present condition, Nathan still needed to be doing  _something_. Mary was his friend. Of the seven, he had known her the longest and hated to think what should have been the happiest day in Chris and Mary's life being tainted with the threat that she may lose her life. In retrospect, he supposed bringing Inez to town did constituting as doing something but he felt the need to help in his capacity as a healer.

"Vesta City?" Inez looked at him and then remembered Buck saying that Vin had wanted to question a stage driver who might have given the persons responsible for Chris' disappearance passage to the town in the first place. No doubt Vin had gone to Vesta City after having exhausted every other avenue that might have information on the whereabouts of Chris Larabee. Returning to Vesta City seemed to have the stink of desperation about it and Inez began to understand just how disheartened Mary must have felt at the continued silence regarding her husband's welfare. 

"Yeah," Nathan nodded in response. "It seems the lady that might have taken Chris may have come from a place called Sparta." 

"Sparta." Inez tried to recall the name in he memory but could not. However, this was hardly surprising since she did not know the Territory as well as she liked beyond the immediate towns like Sweet Water, Eagle Bend and Bitter Creek. While she had become familiar with all the towns leading to Four Cornerssouth of the border after fleeing Don Paulo and her home of Val Verde, Inez had little reason to explore the rest of the countryside. 

"I have never heard of it." She confessed.  

"Neither have I." Nathan commented. "Still Vin ain't usually wrong about these things." He added. "Man's got a nose for tracking I ain't seen no one match. Not even them scouts who used to work with the Army." Nathan, who had done his time in the military, knew the compliment he was giving Vin was no idle one. Ezra often remarked that Vin had a bloodhound somewhere in his family tree and none of the seven was about to disagree with that assertion after seeing how downright determined the tracker could be when he was on the trail. It was more than just tracking, Nathan thought after a moment. It was like the man was hunting. That was most likely the reason why he and Chris got along so well, they both had the same instincts as a hunter and if anyone could find Chris, Nathan believed it was Vin Tanner.

Inez tended to agree because Vin Tanner determined was something that was  _very_  formidable indeed. She had no doubt that the tracker would look under every rock in the Territory if it meant finding Chris. "So they're going to this Sparta?" She asked, wondering how long it would be until she saw Buck again. Glancing instinctively at Elena Rose because she was the best part of both of them, Inez found herself missing the rogue terribly. 

"It's the only lead they've got." He replied, remembering the agreement between himself, Josiah and JD that this was the best course of action, following their receipt of the telegram from Vin today. Vin had told them to sit tight for the moment but to also be expected to ride at a moment's notice if the need warranted it following his, Buck and Ezra's arrival at the mysterious Sparta. 

Inez hoped for Mary's sake that it was the lead that would help them find Chris.

* * *

How is she?" Inez asked as she burst through the door of the Larabee household and found Julia Pemberton in the parlour with Billy Travis lying prone on her lap as she stroked his brow.

She had almost leapt out of the wagon the minute they reached the front door of the Clarion News and miraculously, Elena Rose had not awoken from the jostling in her mother's determination to reach Mary Larabee. Inez was barely aware of Nathan behind her, aware only that he was and would catch up with her even if he was not. The mood inside the room was sombre but there was no quiet. The sounds of footsteps moving quickly back and forth over the floor boards of the upper floor creaked through the room almost as soon as she entered it.

Julia did not move to greet her, remaining seated as she continued to give comfort to the young boy who would accept it from no one else save his parents. She raised her emerald coloured eyes and Inez immediately saw the apprehension in her eyes that she was trying so hard not to show Billy. With that one look, Inez was able to gauge just how critical Mary's condition was and understood the silent request that Julia conveyed for her to calm down slightly because the young boy was frightened enough. Inez could understand that request as well. According to Nathan, Billy had found his mother covered in blood after she had collapsed and while he had behaved admirably in getting her help, he was still a child who had been faced with a situation no one as young as he should.

Julia did not need to answer her question because as Inez's words hung in the air, charged with anticipation, Mary's scream echoed through the floorboards and hollowed the innards of everyone who heard it. Eyes immediately raised upwards as if it were at all possible through see through the ceiling but everyone was mindful of the youth in the company and tried to keep their fears restrained. His mother's scream caused Billy to sit up immediately, his eyes wide with fear as he looked around the faces before him, hoping that one of them would have something to say that would assure him that things were not as bad as it seemed. 

"Alex and Rain have been up there with her since we found her." Julia explained the situation as best she could with what scant information that had been imparted to her before doctor and nurse had withdrawn into Mary's room and ordered everyone else to remain here. "I don't know what happened but she's haemorrhaging and I don't think she can deliver the baby without help."

A shudder ran through Inez as she remembered the agony of child birth when nothing went wrong. Mary should not have to endure this torture when things were bad enough with Chris being gone. She took a deep breath and steadied herself as she prepared to go upstairs and be with Mary who had asked for her presence. Casting her gaze at the people in the room who were just as distressed as she was, she could tell that Josiah and JD were gripped with feelings of helplessness as they listened reluctantly to what was taking place in the room above them. Men were never good in these situations, she thought with a little smile but in this case, their anxieties were not misplaced. 

JD in particular had taken to pacing across the floor, looking up fearfully each time another cry of pain was torn from Mary. He appeared almost as frightened as Billy and Inez recalled that he had spent most of the time during her labour, passed out unconscious. At least he was getting better at coping with such things. Inez could appreciate how helpless both men must be feeling because this was not a situation that could be solved with a gun and they were at the mercy of the healers and fate to decide how Mary would come through this. 

"I need to go up there." Inez said finally upon hearing another agonised wail from Mary. Her best friend needed her and while it should be Chris at her side during this ordeal, that was not possible with the circumstances as they were.

Billy had sat up and stared at the ceiling, his face etched in fear as he heard the last cry from his mother. In reaction, Julia wrapped her arms around his small body and held him close as if trying to will some of her strength into the little boy. Lowering her lips to his ear, she whispered words of comfort, wishing they did not sound hollow because she had trouble believing in them herself. 

"It's going to be okay Billy." She cooed softly. "She'll be alright." 

Inez wished that Julia was not lying and decided it was time she went upstairs. "Can someone take Elena?" Inez asked, looking around her friends for volunteers. Josiah rose immediately to his feet from the chair he was nestled in, holding the old bible with the worn leather cover that he carried in his saddle bag in his hand as if the book alone was capable of him comfort. The big man needed something to do and if it meant playing nursemaid to an infant for a time while her mother went upstairs and tried to assist with bringing another life into this world without it ending in tragedy, then so be it. 

Inez left the others behind and hurried up the stairs, hearing those moans of pain grow louder as she ascended the upper floor of the building. She tried to harden her heart to those pitiful sounds of pain, remembering that she had to be focussed if she was to be of any help to Mary. She could hear the voices of Rain, Alex and Nathan emanating down the hall way and hastened her pace to in order to scale the top of the stairs with greater speed.

Inez reached the hallway and saw that the door to Mary and Chris' bedroom to be closed shut and felt a sliver of fear over what would be behind it when she finally breached the walls of the room. Despite herself, she felt angered that Chris Larabee was not here. Albeit that was not entirely his fault but it was just like a man to be in trouble when a woman needed him most. 

Stop it, Inez told herself sharply. Nothing could keep Chris away from his wife at a time like this unless something was physically preventing him from doing so. 

Inez did not knock when she reached the door, merely entering because those cries of pain were giving her permission enough. 

"Inez!" Alex exclaimed immediately upon her arrival into the room. The doctor was half on the bed, working under the sheet that was smeared with blood, her clothes stained with perspiration and her patient's bleeding. The doctor detracted in what she was doing long enough to give Inez a look before turning back to Mary once again. "Thank God you're here!" Alex declared, genuinely relieved to see Inez.

Rain was at Mary's side, dabbing the woman's brow with a wet rag as Mary gripped the sheets, her fists knotted around the linen as she tried not to scream in pain. The blond woman was almost soaked to the skin in sweat with stringy locks of gold hair plastered to her skin. Her skin was pale and her eyes red from her tears. She leaned back against a pillow on the headboard, almost incoherent from the pain and oblivious to those in the room. Breathing hard, she was muttering softly under her breath, eyes closed as she was faced with images only she could see. 

Inez felt her heart constrict in her chest at the sight of fiercely independent Mary Travis Larabee being reduced to such a state. This woman was a fighter and it was more shocking for Inez to witness her will in such a state of decay then she was by everything else in the room.

"Chris," Mary mumbled, trapped in that place between speech and tears. "Where's Chris?" 

"Mary," Alex called out, trying to slice through the haze of pain being endured by the woman in order to give her some focus. Her condition was extremely critical and further exacerbated by her frantic state of mind. "Mary please, you have to stop pushing. You're not ready."

"I want Chris!" She continued to sob, delirious from the pain. "Where is he?"

 "We're doing everything we can to find him Miss Mary," Nathan said taking position on the other side of the bed and reaching for her hand. Mary's palm in his felt damp with sweat and Nathan knew that she was not going to be able to deliver this baby. The loss of blood had weakened her and the stress of childbirth was pushing her body to its limits. Nathan tried not to be affected by the sight of blood on the sheet and knew that the reason for it was because the foetal lining was detaching from the womb. If something was not done quickly, the chances of either mother or child surviving the birth would not be favourable.

 "Nathan," she opened her tear filled eyes and stared at him, recognising his voice. "It was you Nathan," she started to weep making no sense by the litany of words that escaped her lips as Rain continue to dab her brow with a wet towel. "You made it all happen. You started it all when he stopped to help you, you gotta find him for me Nathan!" She pleaded, tears rolling down her cheeks and tearing out his heart with every anguished word. "You have to find him. Something very bad has happened. I can feel it inside me. I felt him scream Nathan. I heard him scream!" 

She was not making much sense but Nathan could not help but be moved by the desperation in her voice. No doubt her fears for Chris were surfacing in her delirium and yet she sounded so earnest in her claim. "We'll find him Miss Mary," Nathan said finding that he could offer no better answer than that. "I promise you, we'll find him." 

Alexandra Styles Tanner tried not to be affected by the exchange between her patient and the healer. She kept reminding herself that she was not Mary Larabee's friend at this very moment but her doctor. Mary had enough friends around her with Rain, Nathan and Inez providing all the moral support she needed during this difficult time. What Mary needed at this moment was not another friend but a doctor. Her life and that of the child inside of her depended on the doctor guiding her through this difficult process of labour to an acceptable conclusion. As much as Alex wanted to be with Mary, offering the same comforts that the others were dispensing, she knew that it was far more important that she remained focussed more than anyone else in the room. 

For the moment, Nathan's words went some way to calming the woman down which was helpful to the cause since her body was appeared nowhere ready to endure the laborious delivery this was going to be. The blood loss had weakened her considerably and although she was given to the natural instinct to push, Alex knew that if Mary continued to do so, she would endanger her child's life, not to mention hers as well. She was rapidly reaching a point in her attempts to treat Mary where she would have no choice but concede that a natural delivery was not possible.

Nathan's gentle voice in Mary's ear paused long enough for the healer to meet Alex's eyes and she nodded sombrely as she admitted silently that she had reached the same conclusion as he, no matter how much she disliked embarking on this course of action. Alex took a deep breath, glad that he was with her on this decision especially when she hated being forced into this position. Surgery on a woman in Mary's condition was dangerous, especially so with all the blood she was losing and yet there seemed to be no alternative.

"Inez," Alex said quietly, taking the moment to tell Mrs Wilmington what she intended to do since Nathan had distracted Mary long enough with his soothing presence to keep the woman from succumbing to her natural instinct to push. Mary was not yet fully dilated for her to be forcing the baby out down the birth canal and her state of health was so precarious at the moment that Alex could ill afford her the time to do so. With the internal haemorrhaging weakening her with every passing second, Alex knew that she was out of time. 

"Inez," Alex was forced to repeat herself as Inez continued to stare at Mary, almost transfixed by the vision of pain and blood occurring before her eyes. 

Inez had never seen Mary so vulnerable and it shook her to the core much more than she liked. Inez had become so used to the strong willed editor of the Clarion News who stood toe to toe with Chris Larabee whenever she was convinced she was right, that seeing her whimpering in pain, muttering incoherently for him was more than Inez could stand. Alex's voice snapped her back to attention and she averted her gaze back to the doctor again. 

"Why is there so much blood?" Inez demanded now that she found her voice. Her own labour had been nothing like this and frankly it unnerved her seeing how badly things could have gone for her had she been in the same condition as Mary. 

"She's haemorrhaging." Alex said quickly, not having time to explain too much in length. "I have to operate and I have to do it now. I know you want to be with her at this time but I'm afraid if you can't stay." 

"Operate?" Inez looked at her horrified. "Why?" 

"It has to be done Miss Inez," Nathan quickly interjected seeing how difficult it was for Alex to come to this decision. "She ain't strong enough to deliver this baby on her own." 

"But she's lost so much blood!" Inez looked at the sheets that were crimson with evidence to that very fact. "Didn't you tell me once that it was dangerous to operate when someone's lost a lot of blood?" 

"Yes it is," Alex said coolly, telling herself over and over again that Inez was not faulting her skills as a doctor but was more afraid of risking her friend's life under any circumstances. "Unfortunately we don't have a choice, she's not strong enough to have this child on her own but I have to hope she can survive a Caesarean." 

Inez stole a glance at Mary who was still muttering incoherently to Rain, perspiration running down her face, oblivious to everything but the loss of her husband and the pain that her body was suffering. Her skin was pale and she looked almost listless as her head lolled to one side of her pillow and her lips quivered, whimpering the need for Chris even though there was no way he could answer her call. Inez felt her heart bleeding with pity and knew just as surely as everyone else in the room that Alex was right, she could not deliver this child on her own and to delay any further was to endanger them both. 

"Can I help?" Inez turned to Alex and offered her support in the doctor's decision by offering the woman a gentle squeeze on the arm which Alex appreciated greatly. The lady doctor wished she could allow Mary the joy of bringing her baby into the world but Mary was not just her friend, she was her patient and the doctor in her would not risk her life for anything. 

"No," Alex shook her head slowly, feeling the emotion well up inside her by the unanimous support she was receiving from all those around her. "You have to go now. We have work to do." She said gently. 

Inez nodded in understanding and hurried to Mary to say her goodbye before she retreated out of the room and began the waiting game being played by the rest of her friends in the parlour. Mary did not appear very aware as she suffered her ordeal and Inez kissed her lightly on the brow, taking a moment to stroke her damp hair when suddenly a set of blue grey eyes flew open. 

"Inez?" She called out, her voice filled with hope and relief at the same time. 

"Yes, it's me." Inez said quickly, taking Rain's place next to the bed when the nurse saw Mary responding to her. Rain had tasks of her own to fulfil anyway if Alex and Nathan intended to perform surgery on Mary. 

"Oh Inez," Mary wailed as her mind cleared enough to focus on her best friend. "I felt him Inez," she stuttered through her tears. "I felt him scream inside my mind. I don't understand it," Mary continued to speak, her words stilted and confused but holding enough clarity to convey what she felt to Inez. "I don't know how but I felt him scream. He's in trouble Inez, I think he's dead!" 

"Don't even think that," Inez instructed, keeping her voice firm but gentle. "You know that Chris Larabee loves you more than anything in this world and right now, you have to believe that he's trying to find his way back to you. I know it Mary." 

Mary looked at her, her eyes brimming with tears as she tried to believe what Inez to be saying as the truth but she had remembered that terrible feeling or premonition inside the walls of her kitchen before the pain had started and all sense was driven from her world. She remembered how he had reached out to her in a vision of agony not much different then the one she was enduring now and knew that it was the man she loved reaching out to her in sheer desperation. 

"I miss him so much Inez," she started to weep again, the pain overcoming her senses. "I don't want to live if he's gone. I can't go through losing the man I love again. I just can't!" Her words were cut off when she spasmed violently, clutching the sheets and grabbing Inez's arm as the agony renewed its attack upon her body. Mary wept in loud ragged sobs as the agony twisting her body into knots tore a guttural scream from the bottom of her throat. 

"Do something!" Inez shouted but as she turned to Alex, Nathan and Rain, she realised she need not have bothered. They were already on the move. The trio was working in perfect tandem, with Nathan and Rain readying the instruments Alex would use for the surgery while the doctor herself was preparing a needle in order to sedate Mary for the operation. Alex looked up long enough from what she was doing to address Inez. 

"You have to go Inez." She repeated once again, meaning it this time. 

Inez was not to argue the point and move to disentangle Mary's fingers from around her arm when the blond woman cried out in protest. "Please don't leave me Inez!" Mary said frantically with fear in her eyes as Inez drew away. 

Inez stared helplessly at Alex because in truth, she did not want to leave Mary either. The poor woman was so afraid not only for herself but for her child and her missing husband that Inez did not want her to feel the loss of another person in her life even if it was for a short time. "Alex...." she gave Alex a pleading look. "Can't I stay?" 

Alex took a deep breath and decided that there was no reason why Inez could not remain behind, especially if her presence soothed Mary's agitated state. She could stay with Mary for as long as it took for the sedation to do its work and then let herself out later. Besides, if Mary wanted Inez to stay, Alex was not about to deny her that request. With Chris being absent and the miracle of childbirth having twisted into a nightmare of blood and agony, Alex was eager to see at least one thing transpire as Mary Larabee wished it. 

"Alright," Alex nodded with a smile. "Nathan, give her a mask." She giving a sidelong glance in the healer's direction before turning her attention back to the needle in her hand. 

"Thank you Alex," Inez said gratefully. "I promise I'll stay on this side of the room and not get in the way." 

"You could never get in the way ma'am," Nathan remarked as he handed her a linen mask for her to tie around her face and keep the field partially sterile as Alex liked it whenever she had to cut into a patients. 

Inez flashed him a radiant smile before turning back to Mary and whispering assurances in the woman's ear. "I'm staying Mary." Inez spoke, using the same voice she might use when trying to coo Elena Rose to sleep when the child was having a particularly bad night and could not sleep. "I won't leave you." 

"Thank you Inez," Mary blinked tears down her cheeks. "Thank you." 

Inez kept her grip firmly around Mary's hand, unprepared to let it go as Alex approached the bed under Mary's notice and immediately wiped clean the area on her arm where the needle needed penetrate in order for the sedative to do its work. Inez continued to whisper softly in Mary ears, speaking in soft tones of comfort and reassurance, determined that Mary never know a moment of loneliness while she endured what was required to bring her child into this world. 

Mary did not react as the needle broke through the white of her skin, sinking into her flesh. She merely listened to Inez's voice, lulling her into a sense of security she would know if only Chris was here. For the first time, since she heard his terrified cry in her mind, Mary felt remotely safe because Inez would not lie to her and in the absence of Chris, Mary trusted no one else more. If Inez told her Chris would be back then she had to believe it because the alternative was unimaginable. 

Inez continued to stroke Mary's brow as she watched the blue gray eyes cloud over with the effects of the drug in her system and for the first time in too many hours, a look of peace filtered into Mary's face as she began to fall asleep. 

Alex and Inez said nothing for a moment as they both watched her drift into slumber. In the meantime, Rain had entered the room with a basin full of boiling hot water in order to begin sterilization all the instruments Alex would be using while Nathan began selecting just the ones she would need in order for Rain to begin. Alex took a deep breath and let it out again, as if she were rallying the troops for battle.

"Let's do it." She replied. "Its time baby Larabee made its appearance."

 

* * *

 

"What's taking so long?" JD demanded when all had gone silent and the pained cries of Mary Larabee had disappeared shortly after the arrival of Inez Wilmington. It was at times like these that JD's age showed despite all the maturity he had undergone since arriving in Four Corners. Though he was in every respect a man now, having endured his share of personal triumphs and defeats as required by the learning processes of life, he was still marked with the impatience of youth. While most of the time, his older companions did not mind nursing him through the trials of growth; there were moments when their own patience was stretched to the limit. 

With nerves frayed all around by those who were waiting to learn the outcome of Mary's treatment in the room above the parlour in the Larabee home, JD's verbal exclamations felt like glass against glass. Julia in particular was ready to throw something at the young man because his remarks were frightening the child who was holding onto her tight, terrified for his mother's life which seemed like a double blow when one remembered that his father was missing too. Even though Orin Travis would most likely take charge of Blly in the event anything went wrong, God forbid, Julia could say with confidence that she would have little trouble assuming a parental role of Billy if it were required of her. 

Josiah sensing that Julia's patience was almost at an end spoke up gently. The preacher had a voice that could talk a bear out of tearing one to pieces and when he used it to its full effect, there were not many people who was immune to its power. "JD, these things can't be rushed." He said calmly, still cradling Elena Rose in his big arms as the baby continued to sleep, fortunately blessed with being completely oblivious to what was taking place around her at the moment. Josiah envied her ignorance. 

"Calm down and let things happen." He said carefully keeping his voice down so that he would not rouse the little girl from her sleep. "You aren't going to change much by making a fuss." 

JD who was more susceptible than any of the seven to that voice immediately became a little more sedate and stopped his pacing to return to one of the chairs in order to sit down. "I just hate this waiting. It ain't right how this is happening." He grumbled. "Chris should be here." 

"Yes he should," Josiah agreed with that fact wholeheartedly. The preacher also knew that when Chris did return to the them, the gunslinger was going to be racked with guilt at the realisation that he had missed the most important day of his married life to Mary even though it was through no fault of his own. Chris seemed to be most comfortable when his soul was being tested in some way and Josiah wondered if there was not a little Job complex embedded deep within his psyche that made him accept so guilty readily even though he was not responsible for it. 

"Maybe I should postpone my buying trip to Sweet Water," Julia remarked in an effort to change the subject or at least distract everyone from the topic of Chris being absent and Mary possibly fighting for her life and that of her unborn child up stairs. "It does not feel right my going out of town when everything is going to hell like this." 

"Things are not quite that bad and you should do what you have to," Josiah offered his opinion. "Its not going to improve or make the situation any worse if you went about your business like you had to." 

JD listened to Josiah and Julia engaged in conversation and watched Billy lying with his head on Julia's lap as if she was the most important thing in the world to him other than his ma and Chris. JD felt his heart go out to the young boy, aware of what it was like to fear the loss of a parent and being left alone. The next few days were going to be hard for Billy. If Mary survived, she would be bed ridden almost certainly and who knew how long it would be until Chris came home? Suddenly, a note of inspiration struck JD and he looked up immediately. 

"Miss Pemberton, maybe you ought to take Billy with you." He suggested. 

Both of them turned to him sharply and even Billy sat up and paid attention, waiting for JD to continue which he did. "Well Mary ain't gonna be in any condition to be looking after Billy for the next few days and the women folk are going to have their hands full tending to her and the baby. We might have to go to if Vin's get a bead on what happened to Chris so why can't Billy go with Julia? That is if you don't mind ma'am." JD looked at her sheepishly upon conclusion. 

Julia considered the idea for a brief moment and found herself being quite impressed with JD's suggestion. It was the perfect solution and it would take the boy's mind off his mother's condition and his father's disappearance for awhile at least. Besides, JD was right. If Mary did survive the ordeal she was presently suffering, she would be in no shape to care for a child much less an infant and would require the assistance of Inez, Rain and Alex to see the next few weeks through. Not only did JD's solution allow Billy some time away from town while things had a chance to right themselves with his parents but it would also give Mary one less thing to worry about. 

"Would you like that Billy?" She turned to the young boy who was waiting in anticipation for her answer. 

Billy nodded with a little smile. The present circumstances did not allow him to be any more excited than that. Julia was certain that Mary would have no objections and was glad that she would be able to contribute something to Mary's well being even if she was not in town to do it. 

"In that case, I don't see why you can't come with me." Julia replied, brushing a strand of tow coloured hair out of his eyes. Mary's eyes, Julia thought sadly and cast her gaze upward, hoping that her friend was all right. "We'll stay in a hotel and you can come see what I do for a living other than running the Emporium." 

Josiah turned to JD and offered the young man a smile of his own, impressed at the solution he had presented that allowed Billy a little comfort during these troubled times. "Not bad, JD." Josiah replied. 

JD tried not to feel embarrassed by the older man's salutations even though he did feel a tinge of red creeping into his chest. Mostly however, he felt pride that once in a while he was able to offer something in the way of a helpful idea. "I just wanted to help." 

"You did that," Josiah said firmly as he gazed in Billy's direction as he remained lying against Julia, unable to be truly excited about going away with the lady when his mother was upstairs. However, once they learnt Mary was going to be fine because Josiah refused to believe anything else, Billy would feel a little more excited about the trip he was taking with Julia. 

JD was about to respond when suddenly, the silence of the air was ripped apart by the plaintive wail of a baby. 

* * *

Inez was glad that she was positioned on the other side of the room because she did not want to see what Alex and Nathan were doing to deliver Mary's child. While Rain moved back and forth periodically, taking account of instruments being used in the delivery, placing them in the hot water she was constantly boiling, Alex had the task of making the first cut. Since Nathan was on his way to becoming an accredited practitioner of medicine, not to mention a formidable healer in his own right, he was more than capable of keeping watch over Mary's condition during the surgery.

Mary herself was unconscious and while Inez could have left the room after the sedation had done its work, she had promised to remain at Mary's side and would not break that vow simply because Mary was unaware. For something to do, she continued to dab the rag over the lady's brow, keeping her temperature down while the healers in the room set about their business with very little being said. Inez found herself watching in fascination at the almost flawless coordination between the trio and had to confess they were a formidable triumvirate indeed. 

When Alex had first come to town and before the seven had really gotten to know her, there were fears that she would find the idea of an unlicensed healer like Nathan to be offensive and would have been well within the rights to stop him from practising all together. Seeing them work together now, Inez realisedhow unfounded such fears had been. There was almost a symbiotic connection to their performance together, where one instinctively knew what the other was thinking.  

"How is she doing?" Alex asked as she made the incision. 

"Heart rate's a bit thready." Nathan remarked, having checked the patient's pulse through her wrist as well as using a statoscope for a more precise determination. "We better do this fast."  

"She lost a lot of blood." Alex said as a matter of factly as she continued to cut.  

Inez had no idea how they could remain so calm.  

"Rain, I need more swabs." Alex called out as she tossed a bloodied piece of linen into a small tray next to her.  

Nathan glanced at Inez's direction and asked gently. "You okay Miss Inez?"  

"Yes," she nodded, grateful for the consideration. "I'm fine. Is Mary going to be okay?" She asked hopefully.  

"Surgery in any shape of form has some risk," Alex replied automatically and then paused a moment as her hands slipped into the fissure she had created in Mary's flesh. Alex held her breath as her fingers searched through blood and tissue until she felt the hard ridge of flesh she knew could be only one thing.  

"I feel it." She exclaimed, an expression of wonder in her eyes as she continued the procedure, feeling her dedication to the task renewed upon making contact with the life that had been growing inside Mary for the last eight months.  

Suddenly, everyone in the room was trapped in the moment with her as Alex continued her ministrations to coax baby Larabee into this world. Nathan alternated his attention between what was going on the other side of the sheet and keeping watch on Mary's life signs, to ensure that mother as well as child would survive the surgery. Rain remained at Alex's side, providing the doctor with everything she needed, almost using a sixth sense that anticipated Alex's wishes. Inez felt her grip on Mary's hand tightening as she held her breath and waited for the inevitable.  

For Alex, nothing else penetrated the bubble of her concentration once she set upon the last leg of this delicate surgery. She made sure that nothing was left to chance and performed a text book Caesarean, ever mindful of the fact that the mother was weak and could not tolerate a lengthy operation. Alex freed the child inside of Mary from its links to the womb before finally wrapping her hands around the slippery wet body and drawing the child forth.  

"Nathan I need you." She called out and Nathan who was poised for the moment, hurried to her side and picked up the instrument ready for his use. With a little snip of the sterilised scissors, Nathan severed the umbilical chord and the delivery for most part was concluded.

Performing the customary slap on the newborn's rear, the child uttered a wail of unhappiness at the abrupt introduction to life outside the womb.  

"It's a boy!" Alex said excitedly as she examined the child and found him to be perfectly healthy right down to the soft strands of flaxen hair plastered against his pink, wrinkled skin. "He's beautiful!" She whispered, unable to keep herself from being affected by the moment, however, she soon remembered her work was not done by a long shot. "Rain, take him." She said quickly, placing the newborn babe in the fold of the open blanket that was waiting for him in Rain's waiting arms.  

She had brought the baby into the world, now Alex had to make sure that his mother stayed in it as well.

* * *

 

The first thing that Mary saw when she woke up was Inez sitting in the chair next to her bed, cradling a small bundle in her arms. At first, Mary gave no indication that she was awake, merely accustoming herself to being conscious once more. She was weak and her limbs felt heavy against the soft sheets of her bed. Mary also felt unusually drowsy and while she was not incapable of keeping herself from drifting off again, it was a conscious effort to keep her eyes open. As she kept her silence while Inez continued to nurse Elena Rose, Mary became conscious of the pain that was in her lower abdomen. The memory of pain returned to her, the last few minutes before everything had gone black and she had woken up here. Like a splash of icy water against her skin, Mary was revisited by images of blood on her hands and the sharp pain in her belly when cold fear struck her heart and she remembered something else.

Her baby!

Mary sat up immdiately feeling terror as her hands flew to her stomach. She startled Inez by her sudden movement and immediately caused the lady to turn immediately to her.

"Mary, it's okay." Inez said quickly, reassuring the new mother because she could see the fear in Mary's eyes as the events of the last day returned to her. "You're alright." Inez spoke repeatedly in that voice, full of warm comfort for as many times as it took for her words to sink in and for Mary to believe it.  

"The baby...." Mary started to stammer, descending into panic.

"Is just fine." Inez replied and presented Mary with an infant she had initially thought to be Elena Rose.  

"He's beautiful Mary." Inez smiled, feeling the emotion well up in her as she handed Mary her son.  

For a moment, Mary did not dare touch him but her hesitation lasted briefly. She looked at her best friend with eyes brimming with tears, unable to believe that her baby was safe when the last thing she could remember was the terrible pain and blood that promised the worst and had made her expect it. However, when she lowered her gaze to the pink face before her, dozing quietly in the folds of his woollen blanket, quite exhausted after the his arrival into the world, Mary knew that Inez was not lying. 

Her son was safe and he was here. 

Mary blinked upon seeing him, feeling warm tears spilling over her cheeks as she reached for him and then took him up into her arms. He was oblivious to her presence of course, only aware that of the warmth of her body against his fragile form. Mary held him against her breast, so he could hear the comforting sound of her heart beating as it had been when he was in her womb. Mary found herself staring into his tiny face and immediately saw Chris in so many places that she started to cry. 

"Oh Inez...." Mary whispered softly as she held one of her fingertips to his pink, bow shaped mouth and felt herself shudder with so many emotions that it was almost hard to speak. The ache inside her soul that Chris was not here to share the moment with her seemed overpowering right now however, Mary also felt a sense of renewed courage upon looking at her son because even in sleep, he seemed to convey his need for her strength. 

"Did you and Chris decide on a name?" Inez found herself asking, feeling just as emotional as she saw Mary with her new son and was bombarded with memories of how she had felt when she had seen Elena Rose for the first time. 

"Yes," Mary swallowed, thinking of their discussion regarding the subject and wiped away the tears in her eyes because she missed Chris so much just thinking about him. "If it was a boy, we wanted to name him Michael." 

"Michael." Inez nodded in approval. "Michael Larabee," She said out loud, trying it just for size. "It suits him." 

"It does," Mary agreed with a little smile, her eyes never leaving her son as she looked into his cherubic face. "He'll come back to us Michael." She whispered to her little son because she refused to believe anything else now. "I know he'll come back to us."

* * *

Laurel was right. It was easier the second time around.  

Chris stood in the centre of the ring, watching the faces around him cheering his name in adulation. Unlike the last time he had found himself on centre stage, there was none of the doubt that had plagued him with thoughts of misguided morality. In fact, that inner voice had remained strangely silent and the only thing that Chris could hear with any clarity was chanting of his name on the lips of his bloodthirsty audience waiting for him to give them the performance of his life.

His eyes skimmed the faces of the dilettantes and found they interested him little. Instead, he focussed his attention at Lauren Chase, determined more than ever that this time he would win for her, he would fight like he had never fought before and when the day was done, she would be his. Chris wished that Vin was here so that the tracker could enjoy the moment with him because Vin would understand what it was like to surrender to the primeval inside one's soul. Vin was a man of the wild; he would understand the course that Chris was about to take. 

Chris heard the crowd roar louder with the arrival of his opponent and the former lawman looked over his shoulder to see the huge Indian enter the arena, a look of supreme confidence on his face as he swaggered forward. Chris felt no apprehension as he faced the enemy and knew immediately that he could beat the man, no matter how impressive the Indian may appear upon making his dramatic entrance into the ring. He stared at Chris at length following his arrival and the expression of amusement in his eyes told the gunslinger that the Indian did not see him as much of a threat. 

Which was rather ironic because that was Chris was thinking the same about the Indian. 

He gazed at the man long and hard, pushing the chant of the crowd to the background as he prepared to fight. He remained where he was, not making a step towards the Indian and making his opponent nervous because the man could not gauge whether or not Chris was holding position because he was afraid or cautious enough to be formidable. In either case, Chris showed no expression as the Indian studied him for a few seconds and the crowd felt silent with anticipation as they waited for the blood sports to begin. 

The Indian made the first move when his concern over the lack of fear he was seeing in Chris' eyes faded and he chose to attack. His began the dance of combat by circling his latest prey, confident that he would put down this challenger to his throne as easily as he had put down all the others before this occasion. Chris kept his eyes fixed on the man and watched him move, always keeping his attention focussed on the Indian's muscle and body language, insinuating his own offensive into place while he waited for the Indian to strike. 

The man threw an enormous fist in Chris' direction, which he dodged easily, carefully keeping a narrow gap of space between them to ensure that the Indian would always have to lunge to reach him. The blow whooshed past him and as the man was caught in the vulnerable position during the space of time after a punch was thrown and before another could be delivered, Chris slammed a focussed blow into the Indian's side. The punch had its greatest effect above the man's kidneys as Chris intended, since that was a most vulnerable part of the body. The Indian grunted in pain and swung around, angered that the first punch was not his and further infuriated when the crowd roared Chris' name in adoration for that initial strike. 

 _That's right_ , Chris said to himself as the Indian swung wide in anger and he dodged the punch easily.  _Get angry_. 

Chris dropped to one knee and struck the Indian square in the stomach before the man had time to clench his muscles to take the blow. He felt his palm sink into flesh and felt the wind forced out of his opponent's lung as the man staggered back. Not wasting any time, Chris was standing upright again and this time, he took the offensive as the Indian clutched his stomach and attempted to recover. Chris knew he could not let the Indian hit him. The man was bigger and most likely stronger but he was not as skilled a fighter as he might like to think. Strength had made the man rely too much upon it and that advantage was all that someone like Chris who had the skill but not the brute strength, to win. Lashing out in a succession of swift blows, his first punch struck the man's ribs cracking it under his fist, the second higher into his throat and the final was a road house swing across the man's jaw.

  
Those watching met the triads of hits with great excitement. The Indian staggered back again, coughing loudly as his windpipe sustained the same injury that had killed a lesser opponent only two days before. However, he was able to recover more swiftly and knew that he had to get his hands on the blond man if he was to have any chance of it. The Indian ran forward once again, intending to tackle Chris in a body slam. Chris held his ground, watching the man cross the short space between them as he stood with his back to the walls of the ring. The audience was shouting at him to move but Chris refused. He waited as the margin between them narrowed until there was only a second left to act. 

Just before the Indian could make contact, Chris leapt out of the way while the Indian kept going. Straight into the wall. The loud crack as his skull met stone would have knocked a normal man unconscious. However, the competitors in Laurel's Arena were anything but ordinary. With their veins thick with the Ambrosia that would not allow them to walk away from a fight, they would fight until their very last breath and so it was with the Indian and Chris at this moment. The big man remained on his feet even though he was somewhat disorientated. 

Chris decided it was time to finish and moved in for the kill. Taking advantage of the situation, Chris came up from behind the man and slammed his foot in to the bend of the man's knee, dropping him immediately. As the Indian attempted to turn around, he was met with another balled fist and then two palms that slammed into the side of his head. Another palm strike connected with the underside of his jaw, snapping his head back savagely and in the daze of these deadly strikes, felt a muscled arm lock around his throat. 

Holding onto the Indian's neck in a deadly arm lock from behind, his opponent made a valiant effort to dislodge him but Chris was too clever and skilled for that. He remained in control until he felt the struggling wane and the screaming of his name so loudly that it only added to his fevered excitement of drawing this battle to a conclusion. Chris looked at Laurel, for hers was the only face that held any meaning for him and saw her lips curl into a smile. She blew him a kiss and he knew that if he performed well for her, she would reward him personally. 

Without even thinking twice about what he was doing, Chris snapped the Indian's neck in one easy moment and this time, there was no regret to follow the act. 

The audience rose to their feet, clapping, cheering, going wild with excitement as the Indian went slack in his arms and Chris let him go, watching dispassionately as the man tumbled into the dirt. For a few seconds, Chris was struck with the notion that he had done something terribly wrong. He thought that it might be wrong to just kill indiscriminately but then remembered that this was the way of things in the Arena and to be apart of it, he had to kill. As Chris raised his hands to revel in the adoration of the crowd, he felt that momentary doubt fade into nothingness. 

They were calling his name. He could hear it rolling off their tongues like a song to be sung and he had to admit he liked indulging the raw and primitive inside of him. Something inside him that had spent its entire life shackled was now finally free to do as it wished and by that same extension, allow him the same freedom as well. 

Chris Larabee knew with utter confidence that he was finally the man he should have always been.

* * *

Following his impressive victory in the Arena and establishing without question that he was now the best fighter that Laurel Chase had in her stable of combatants, Chris was returned to his room where he was allowed time to freshen up and as well as some time to rest. However, despite being granted this allowance, Chris felt as if he did not need it. His heart was pounding inside his chest and the walls of his room seemed limiting and to a certain extent almost claustrophobic. Even though he tried very hard to unwind, he could not seem to relax and the adrenaline that course through his veins demanded that he expend the energy building up inside him somewhat. To his surprise because he knew inwardly he was not a violent man, Chris wanted to keep fighting now that he had the taste for it and the lure of it was so strong that it was hard to think of anything else.  

He was pacing the floor of his cell like a caged animal when he saw Zhang appear at the door to his cell. Chris wondered what the man wanted and a delicious smile crossed his face at the thought that Zhang might wish to cross swords  _again._ However, the Oriental did not appear to have such thoughts in mind as he looked at Chris through the bars, his face impassive as ever.  

"My Lady wishes to see you." He said calmly. 

Chris felt his pulse quicken with anticipation at what Laurel would want with him at this late hour. He remembered the scent of her skin in his lungs and felt the desire for battle superseded by something even more primitive and just as powerful.  

Zhang opened the door for him but made sure that he remained in a position of advantage behind the latest acquisition for the Arena. He did not change his mind when he claimed that Chris Larabee was a dragon in the dark. While he knew that his lady had a fascination for things dangerous, Zhang sensed that this time she might have caught a tiger by the tail.  

And this one had particularly fierce teeth.

* * *

 

Laurel was waiting for Chris when Zhang finally brought him to her private chambers. Following the agonies suffered by withdrawal, Laurel had boosted the dosage of Ambrosia she had been administering to the gunslinger. By now, she had no doubt that the memories of his past were so vague, he had trouble remembering his friends let alone what they might have meant to him. Thanks to the powerful hallucinogens in the drug, he was extremely susceptible to suggestion and it was no effort to convince him that the Arena was in his blood and that she was what he desired. 

Of course, she could prove none of this until she saw him fight in the Arena and tonight, he had come through for her most spectacularly. As Laurel had imagined the first time she had seen him in Vesta City, Chris' effect over the audience was hypnotic. They were mesmerized by him in the ring and further enthralled by the sheer strength of his persona with each new victory. No doubt, the financial advantage of having him under her control would pay off nicely.

 Now it was time to indulge in the physical benefits. 

He had done his job well and Laurel could see it in his eyes, the burning lust he felt for her. She had brought him to the place where instinct was all he knew and the maleness of him sensed the conquest of a different kind of prey as he cast that intense gaze upon her. It was not lost to her that the glimmer in those piercing green eyes was less than it had been when she had firs met him. She had known that sacrifices had to be made in order to possess him. It would simply be possible to conquer one as he otherwise and she had had accepted the loss with little or no qualms. She wanted a consort to her kingdom but she also wanted his obedience. Magnificent as he was, Laurel would allow no man to have power over her. 

Least of all, a man like Chris Larabee. 

For the moment however she allowed him enough slack with his chains because he had performed well in the right tonight and it was time that he was rewarded. Laurel had always intended him to be her lover but she was patient, breaking him within the Arena first and then driving away that moral center that made him everything he was with the aid of her drugs. If he remembered his wife still, she was a memory in his mind that could have been his or perhaps even from in his reckoning from a life that was no more. In either case, when he came to her, it mattered not who he made love to because it would be Laurel who would be enjoying him. 

"Come to me Chris." She beckoned him over to where she was sprawled on her bed, waiting. 

He approached her, admiring the beauty of her, savoring every curve of her luminescent skin and feeling the lust rise up his throat and grip him with a powerful desire that would not let go until he tasted her flesh. For so long, he had craved and waited for this moment, imagining the feel of her skin under his palms and how it would be when he finally took her. Now that the moment was finally upon him, Chris had no difficulty rising to the occasion. He joined her on the bed but did not settle on the mattress. Instead, he paused at edge of the bed where she was sprawled wearing nothing but a simple silk nightdress made exclusively for the purpose of seduction rather than as sleepwear. 

Chris paused, allowing his gaze to travel up her bare legs, moving over the sensual shape of her firm body, lingering on the ample breasts whose points were hard and erect behind the silken fabric of her dress before reaching her lips and then touching her eyes with his own. He held her stare for a moment as their gazes locked and they dueled some ancient game of seduction played by all men and women before the primeval gripped them in a dance of pleasure. Chris stared into her eyes and realized that something was wrong. 

It was not the same. 

He wanted her and he was going to take her, there was no doubt in his mind of that. However, Chris was suddenly faced the realization that he was going to indulge his lust for her not because he wanted to but rather because he was compelled to do so. There was another time and he struggled to remember when that had been, when it had been more than just a drive to him. Where sharing the flesh was more than just a physical exchange but rather something beyond the ability of the written word to describe. He searched his memory, obscured by the perennial fog that was there all the time. 

"Mary." He whispered. 

Laurel's eyes widened. "Not Mary." She said cooly and immediately crawled towards him. Hooking her finger through the narrow space where the edge of his pants met skin around his waist, she pulled him down. He did not protest as her hand snaked around his neck and she raised her mouth to meet his in a kiss of passion. Laurel slid her tongue past his teeth and began to kiss him hard, delivering to him one of the most searing kisses she could manage in the short expanse of time that their lips remained locked. It took a second or two but eventually he succumbed to the desire for her she had been stoking into existence ever since she had laid claim to him in Vesta City.

Chris felt himself pulled into the power of her kisses but somehow he did not feel as pleasured as he thought he would. He enjoyed the sensation of her lips against his as she devoured his mouth, teasing his lips as her tongue tasted him as he if he were something to be eaten. He returned her kisses, enjoyed them to a certain extent but could not get past the feeling that something was not quite right. He could feel it with each forced attempt to engender more passion in his attempts to love her and knew that somehow she would never be able to satisfy the yearning he felt for another.

For Mary.

He felt her arms around his shoulder, kneading the flesh, savouring the curve of every muscle as her palms made their journey down his back. He heard her moan softly at the feel of tight skin beneath hers and indulged himself by testing out the texture of hers. It was as luxurious as he imagined it would be and then came to the same wall that screamed that there was something  _still_  missing, something that not even the most seductive and delightful flesh could replace. He went through the motions, driven by some inner force he could not explain to pleasure her as she was pleasuring him and yet invariably, Chris knew that his heart was not in it. 

Laurel could sense that a part of him was not entirely hers, that he was holding back his enjoyment out of loyalty to something buried so deeply within that not even the drugs she had fed him could penetrate. To tell the honest truth, she did not mind at all. She kissed his neck, watched his stomach muscles clench in anticipation as she worked her way down his body, watching in satisfaction that though his mind was not completely with her, his body was another story entirely. She undid the buttons of his pants, watched his eyes cloud over with desire as she lowered her mouth on to his erect and extremely impressive member and continue to savage him with pleasure.

There was only one thing better than getting a man who wanted you; getting the one who did not.

 She heard him groaning as only a man could when he was indulged with this kind of torture, his fingers entwining in her dark hair as he pulled her face forward when he began to thrust his hips forward in her direction. Laurel swirled her tongue over his glans as she nursed on his rigid cock, feeling waves of pleasure and triumph, with each moan forced out of him from the sensation of her mouth on his erect skin. There was power in forcing a man to enjoy pleasures he did not want, in making a man succumb to the weaknesses of his body even though his heart and mind lay elsewhere. He would never be hers, Laurel had known that from the very beginning. Men like this did not give their love easily and once it was given it was not something that could be taken back or traded like flour in the marketplace.

 Laurel Chase would enjoyed him more knowing Chris Larabee was her consort against his will.

 Eventually, she pulled away just before he could release his seed into her mouth, wanting him inside her before that happened. She removed her clothes and saw his eyes cloud with induced passion as his hands ran over her skin, exploring her body and yet seeing it in his eyes that he was not really wanting her but someone else. Another woman would have been angered by that but not Laurel. As Olympian in size as her ego was, it was also laced with an equally cruel and sadistic nature.

 If Chris Larabee did not want her, that was fine by Laurel Chase. However, she was never going to let him go and he could yearn and pine all he liked because he was never having his Mary again.


	6. The Main Attraction

 

There was a Sparta in Indiana, Tennesee and North Carollna, Vin discovered later.

Across America, God only knew how many towns chose to call themselves Springfield. To Vin it mattered little what designation the collection of buildings and lights in the canyon called itself, he only knew that it was a place that might have the answers he needed to find Chris Larabee.

It was a long shot, he knew that but at the moment, there was no other clue that could tell him the whereabouts of Lauren Chase and Vin was absolute on his belief that she was at the heart of Chris' disappearance. It had taken two days to reach Sparta and no one they encountered on their way there liked speaking about the place. Even though most they had managed to wring the truth out of have confessed to knowing about the place, none would reveal anything more about it except that they had never been there and had no intention of doing so either. The lawman from Four Corners had to wonder what had inspired such fear about the almost mythical place and had no choice but to continue onwards with scant information.

Sparta was located deep in the Territory and as they made the final leg of their journey, they discovered that the entire community was located at the bottom of a canyon with only one discernible way into town. Surrounded by high walls, it was near impossible for anyone to penetrate the place without being seen but then Vin supposed that was the point of the entire exercise. However, there was always a way in as far as he was concerned and while it might not be openly obvious to them at this time, the tracker was confident that he would find it.

The trio did not immediately enter Sparta upon their arrival there. As they neared the edge of the canyon wall and were given an overall view of the town, they found it to be quite impressive. All around, there was little more than sparse vegetation in the almost desert like terrain. The land was as flat as could be with the occasional rock formations that littered this part of the Territory. It was hardly inviting with land that did not seem fit for anything but neglect and confirmed to Vin that whomever had built an oasis in the middle of this desert had done so for the purposes of secrecy.

The town itself was large. Its limits stretched from one end of the canyon floor to the other. As Vin studied the place, he could see buildings and homes, no doubt belonging to those individuals who serviced the entertainment here. There were gambling houses and bordellos, restaurants and hotels and the centre of town, surrounded by all the vices that man could imagine for himself was something that Vin had trouble recognizing at first. He could not see it very clearly from where they had stationed themselves to make their observation, but what he did see left in puzzled.

He had not been in a big city in his entire life. He stayed away because the thought of so many people crammed in one place was enough to make his skin crawl. Even when Alex told him about places like London and Paris which were sprawling cities filled with not thousands of people but rather millions, Vin found the thought quite disturbing. However, the disadvantage of not being acquainted with urban life was that he missed recognising things he ought to know like that strange construct in the middle of Sparta. It almost looked like an outdoor theatre with terraced seats for an audience surrounding what appeared to be the centre stage. He had seen a travelling circus once and decided that what he was looking at did not look too indifferent from what he had remembered seeing then. Although this seemed a lot fancier, he did not imagine that the main attraction was going to be jugglers or clowns. Studying the place gave Vin an involuntary shudder he could not explain and he decided that he did not at all like Sparta. Despite all its charms and attractions, there was something sinister about it that made him cautious and eager to be away.

"A veritable Sodom and Gomorrah," Ezra Standish commented as they viewed the town from their vantagepoint. Although they had arrived a few hours ago, the three men made the unanimous decision to hold position until dark in order to infiltrate the place with more ease. As the sun began to set, they noticed a sudden influx of carriages and riders into the locality and the lazy atmosphere of the day quickly withered away with the coming of night. When twilight arrived, Sparta livened up considerably with the faint sound of music playing in the background and happy voices chirping throughout the establishment.

"Seems like a pretty lively place." Buck commented, wishing in a little corner of himself that he was still in his wild and single days because the temptation of all those fine looking women moving about the streets in their expensive dresses and finery.

"Ezra you ever seen anything like that before?" Vin asked, ignoring Buck's observation because he knew exactly when the scoundrel's interest in Sparta lay and did not have the patience to tolerate it this time. He realised that he was running on a short fuse and would probably continue to do so until Chris was found but made no apologies for it. They were here at Sparta for a reason not to sightsee. The tracker gestured to the construct in the centre of the town that seemed to be garnering the most interest by the number of people heading towards it. 

"Yes," Ezra nodded with a little bit of frown on his usually impassive facade. "I noticed that earlier. I have never seen one built in quite that way before and it does seem to employ the rather dated design of a Roman amphitheater." 

"A what?" Buck looked at him, wishing Ezra could just speak English for once and not get so flowery with his speech.

"An arena." Ezra retorted with a roll of his eyes as he spoke. "Where the ancients used to have gladiatorial matches."

"You mean fighting right?" Buck replied, his eyes still fixed on the arena as Ezra called it and noticed that it seemed to be drawing most of the interest in the community. A large number of people were standing to fill the seats and Buck started to feel more than a passing curiosity to what match was being held.

"Well I am certain that what is transpiring down there is not to the level and brutality of the Roman Empire, I seriously doubt we will be seeing either Christians or lions taking centre stage." Ezra answered taking a long look at the distant proceedings.

Vin was hardly listening to the conversation between the two men having gone to his horse in order to retrieve his eyeglass from his saddle. Once he reached the edge where Ezra and Buck were continuing their conversation about what kind of fighting was taking place in the arena as Ezra called it. "Could be prize fighting." Vin offered. "I've heard of travelling fights."

"The clientele do not seem the type to amuse themselves with the pugilistic skills of the sideshow variety." Ezra pointed out dubiously. "Those are gentleman and ladies down there."

Vin was not so quick to agree and immediately peered through the eyepiece in order to get a better look for himself. There was something about the arena that bothered Vin and while he was unsure what its connection to Laurel Chase was, he was unwilling to let his guard down either. It took a moment for him to adjust to seeing the world through a magnified sphere but when he did he was privy to quite a bit.

When Ezra had said that there were ladies and gentlemen down there, he had not been exaggerating. He had been to Kansas City once and though he had not liked it much because of its rapid approach to complete urbanisation which was far too ordered for his liking, he had seen hotels of the kind he was now seeing in Sparta. There were opulent places catered for the rich and the idle, not at all for those who worked for a living. These were the kinds of places frequented by cattle barons, railroad tycoons, not cowboys or drovers. Whomever had created this oasis in the middle of the desert had one very specific type in mind neither he nor Buck fit the bill.

Vin continued to observe, letting the telescopic piece of glass fill in all the blanks that the distance had created. He could see hotels alright, expensive ones with just as fancy gambling houses where ladies in long gowns walked down the boardwalk on the arms of men wearing suits, not too indifferent than that worn by the gambler. Even when he came to the local bordellos, they were nothing like the kind that he had visited in the past. These were worn looking women, who didn't like touching you and made you do your business because you were one dollar out of many they had to deal with in a day. No, these were the kinds of women that made you want to spend your entire life locked in a room with them. The kind who made you want them over and over again.

Suddenly, he caught sight of something that made him forget all that.

The big oriental walked down the boardwalk, oblivious to the fact that Vin was watching him with widening eyes. Wearing the same black suit and somber expression as he continued on his way, Vin knew it was the same man that had accompanied Laurel Chase to Vesta City almost a week ago. Vin noticed something else as well as he watched the man make his way to the construct they were calling the arena. Everyone knew him. People who saw him greeted him even though Vin could not hear what was being said. Whomever this man was in Sparta, he was someone who immediately commanded respect. Hats were tipped in his directions, smiles were offered freely and from some nervous obedience and a desire to keep out of the way.

"She's here." Vin said simply and cut short any discussion being carried out by Ezra and Buck regarding gladiators, arenas or Christians alike.

"What?" Buck looked at him. "How do you know that?"

"The Chinaman's here." Vin lowered the eyeglass and handed it to Buck. "Look at the boardwalk in the main street. He's heading for this arena whatever you call it. You can't miss him."

Buck took the telescope and held it to his eye and quickly searched the area specified for the man in question. It did not take him long to spot the man that Vin had mentioned. "Damn, he's huge." Buck commented. "I wouldn't like to meet him in a fight."

"Let Ezra look Buck." Vin commanded and Buck handed the gambler the device after a few more seconds of observation, pointing out to the gambler exactly where the oriental was heading towards so that Ezra could find him.

"You are not joking Mr Tanner," Ezra swallowed visibly, estimating that with those hands, the Easterner would have no difficulty snapping a neck like one would split a wishbone at a Thanksgiving meal. "He is formidable to say the least."

"You sure about her being here?" Buck asked Vin, able to see the Oriental from this distance only as a vague blur.

"Where he is, she will be too." Vin replied, recalling what Laurel had said during dinner when she had insinuated herself upon himself and Chris. Laurel had claimed that Mr Zhang was her guardian and protector who would never stray too far from her side. Vin knew emphatically that if Mr Zhang was here then so was Laurel Chase.

"Alright," Buck said starting to make a move. "Let's go down there."

"Take it easy Buck," Vin spoke up to stop him. "We ain't going down there yet." He declared, taking a moment to think of the best way to attack this problem. If Laurel Chase was holding Chris in Sparta and this was starting to look like a very real possibility, they could not go simply barging in there expecting to rescue him. At least not until they knew what kind of odds they were going to be facing.

"Why the hell not?" Buck demanded, just as concerned about Chris as he was and not about to let his oldest friend linger in captivity any longer than necessary. If this woman had some clue as to his whereabouts, then they needed to get going so they could shake it out of her.

"Because we are unaware of what awaits us down there Mr Wilmington." Ezra replied coolly, his eyes still observing their target moving into the enormous estate around which the arena was situated. "Judging by the way people are reacting to Mr Zhang I do believe that he is not exactly a patron of Sparta and might have something to do with the establishment. This could change things significantly if we attempt to retrieve Mr Larabee without being certainly exactly what he is to this place."

A little more detailed than he would have put it but it was more or less what Vin was about to say, the tracker thought as Buck ruminated on the gambler's answer and saw the sense to his words. They were Chris' one shot at getting rescued. If they lost this opportunity, they may never another chance again. "Ezra, can you go in?" Vin asked after a moment.

Ezra had more or less expected the request once he had seen the kind of people that were expected in Sparta. Vin and Buck would stand out immediately and attention was the last thing they needed at the moment. He had no difficulty blending into an environment such as the one that awaited them below. "I do not see any difficulty in that request." He met Vin's gaze.

"Good," Vin nodded, perfectly aware of how easily Ezra was to infiltration. He never thought the skills of a former conman were so useful until he met Ezra Standish. Of course, it helped too that Ezra was extremely good at what he did and often landed on his feet, no matter what the situation. "You're gonna have to go in alone."

"I more or less expected that." Ezra said, unsurprised.

"Alone?" Buck turned to Vin with an accusatory eye. "Why alone?"

"We'd stick out." Vin replied and then added with a little smile. "Besides, I don't want to make you suffer with all that temptation down there."

"Oh shoot Vin," Buck scowled. "I'm a happily married man."

"And with all due respect to your wife, the lovely Mrs. Wilmington," Ezra met Vin's eyes with a straight face that belied the mischief the tracker saw there. "We aim to see that you remain that way."

* * *

After much sulking from Buck and having liberated Vin of the wad of cash he had managed to acquire courtesy of Alexandra Styles nee Tanner's considerable inheritance, Ezra found himself riding into Sparta. His approach was met without incident as he simply blended in with the host of carriages that were journeying to the plush hotels that were contained inside this palace of forbidden pleasures hidden deep with the desert sands of the Territory. Since he was more than dressed the part, he was taken as just another one of the wealthy visitors and allowed to pass without incident.

Despite fighting the urge to disappear into one of the luxuriously furbished gambling houses that flanked his path into the heart of town with the cash he had on his person, Ezra reminded himself he was here for a deeper purpose. Instead, he headed towards the arena where the oriental Mr Zhang had been headed towards when Vin had sighted him earlier. Ezra had to confess to a certain amount of curiosity to know what exactly were the nature of the games taking place inside the stadium. He could not imagine the rich being so enamoured as to travel out all this way to see a prize fight when any large town held the same offerings in much less remote surroundings. 

Judging by the amount of people making their way towards the amphitheater it looked like the industry in Sparta had emerged around the arena. As Ezra followed the crowd, he was rather astonished to see what he would consider highborn blue bloods of the American aristocracy being among the guests filtering into the place. Maude would have a stroke just seeing the amount of possibility here, he thought with a smile and reminded himself to write his mother about this place. If it was still around after he and the seven were through with it, knowing their reputation for such things, he was sure she would be on the first stage headed for this direction.

The arena was just as impressive from a distance as it was up close. The games had yet to begin as he entered through the enormous doors that led to the insides of the circular shaped building. He decided to ignore the betting stands that preceded them, reminding himself that he was here for a purpose and could not afford to be swayed by his baser instincts. He did however, note that betting was almost as lucrative an enterprise as every other that was conducted in Sparta. Upon passing through the polished wooden doors, he found himself in an open air enclosure with seats surrounding the deepened ring that afforded everyone a perfect view of the entertainment about to begin. A young man in what appeared to be an usher's uniform fashioned in dark velvet and high collars, saw his arrival and greeted Ezra politely.

"First time in the Arena Sir?" He asked Ezra as others of his kind found seating for the people that were entering the place at the same time. 

"Yes," Ezra returned politely with a smile. "I was told about this place by an acquaintance of mine."

"Well you're lucky Sir," the man replied. "The games are about to begin. Let me find you a seat." He offered and started leading Ezra to one of the vacant seats in mid row. Ezra saw no reason to refuse his offer since he would have to sit down to find out what was going on and this was an excellent opportunity to seek out the oriental man who was henchman to the woman they were certain was responsible for Chris' disappearance. Ezra allowed the usher to lead him to a seat in the middle part of the stands and while it was not ringside as the term was often used, it was close enough to give him a very good view of not only the ring but also the stands.

As soon as he was seated, Ezra began scouring the place to find the oriental, certain that he was here. With all the ceremony that was being concentrated here, the gambler was sure that the man could not be far away since it appeared that he was involved with the arena in some way, even if Ezra could not imagine how. He supposed that this was a prizefight of some sort. While such tournaments were interesting to the masses, Ezra could find no pleasure in watching two men who were obviously used to a pummeling, to be reduced to such an occupation, pit their skills against each other for a paying audience. How much fascination could there be in seeing two combatants who had danced the same dance on another night and how different could that outcome be?

More interested in locating the oriental that had sparked this infiltration, Ezra allowed his eyes to scour the faces present at the match. Most of them were as he suspected earlier, bored members of rich families who spent most of their time idling away their fortunes in every conceivable mode of indulgence. They were mostly his age and they varied in gender but definitely not in circumstances. It did not take long for him to realise his audience had very little to do with his quest here and turned his observations to locating the elusive Mr Zhang. Ezra scanned every seat and every section of Arena, hoping to find some evidence of the man.  

Suddenly, the previously darkened centre stage came to life with the slow illumination of the ring. As the chattering voices of the audience began to still, Ezra saw movement emerging from what would be considered a private box. None of the patrons were allowed and as Ezra waited to see who would step through the curtain, he was also being swept away with the dramatic pageantry that preceded the evening's entertainment. If nothing else, he had to give the organisers of this little event credit for creating an almost charged atmosphere of anticipation among the audience.

It was at this point that Mr Zhang appeared in the private box and behind him was without doubt the infamous Laurel Chase. Without ever laying eyes on her himself, Ezra knew without doubt that this was the woman that Vin Tanner had described. She was wearing a low cut dress of red velvet and she did not move, she glided. She was in his opinion, the most enchanting female that he had ever seen and the sight of her forced the breath from his lungs as he watched her like a child whose face was pressed against the glass of a candy store shop front. She took her seat just as the master of ceremonies stepped into the ring and began prattling some nonsense about the combatants which he had been correct in assuming would be engaged in a pugilistic display.

Ushers served her chilled champagne and she presided over the private box and indeed the ring like a queen watching over her kingdom. Mr Zhang remained close by, always ensuring that she was protected, like the captain of the guard. Ezra had no doubt he would willing die for her and wondered what was the true nature of their relationship. Neither did he have any doubt that that Sparta was her creation and in particular this Arena. While discovering her should have provided answers, all it ended up doing was creating more questions for Ezra. What on Earth did she want with Chris Larabee. For the first time since Vin had claimed that she was responsible for the gunslingers kidnapping, Ezra had cause to wonder if perhaps the tracker was wrong, that it was not she who had stolen Chris from Vesta City.  

All questions evaporated from his mind momentarily when the combatants took centre stage and Ezra Standish who thought himself incapable of ever being astonished was faced with a situation he had thought to be impossible.

There in front of him, as large as life was Chris Larabee.

His appearance sent the audience into a frenzy and they immediately rose to their feet and cheered with standing ovation at the arrival of the gunslinger. All Ezra could manage was a mute stare as he quickly forced himself to stand up in order not to appear conspicuous. Chris raised his arms, obviously enjoying the adulation as his eyes swept across the audience, smiling like a man in perfect control of his mind. Ezra watched mesmerized as Chris walked towards Laurel Chase and gave her a smile that seemed completely out of place on his normally brooding features. The woman blew him a kiss and Chris grinned, exciting the audience even more by the display. They began chanting his name and it was more than Ezra could take as the gambler fell down heavily in his seat, trying to come to grips with his extreme surprise at what was transpiring before him.  

Chris Larabee willingly engaging a prize fight? Ezra could not believe it. In fact, he refused to believe it. He refused to believe it any more than the exchange made by the leader of the seven and the woman who had taken him captive. For the last week, they had been chasing down every lead to bring them to this point, sick with fear that perhaps it was too late, perhaps Chris was dead. Ezra could not allow his mind to wrap itself around the possibility that Chris was here playing prized animal to this woman when at home, his pregnant wife was waiting his return.

His opponent stepped into his ring and Ezra felt his stomach knotting because he knew Chris would not fight. Chris Larabee did not engage in such blood sports. Hell, the man did not even like playing poker with strangers! If there was one thing that Ezra could rely upon was that Chris was always in control. To believe for a moment that Chris would engage in this activity was ludicrous! Yet as he watched the audience staring at the gunslinger, chanting his name with abandon, he begin to wonder why they would have such confidence that he would perform unless they had seen him do it before.

To answer his question, Chris swung at the man he was facing in the ring.

Ezra had thought Chris was fast before but watching him in the ring as he traded blows with a rather large man with all too many scars and a face that might have met the business end of knuckle one time too many, Ezra saw no signs of strategy. Chris was focussed as he fought but there was no hidden intention behind his punches other than to render his enemy unconscious. Ezra felt his heart pounding inside his chest from the sheer shock of watching Chris Larabee attack without hesitation, the man who did not have a chance as far as the gambler was concerned.

The opponent was struggling to remain on his feet but Chris was attacking at a juggernaut pace. The blows he struck were not only focussed but extremely crippling. Blood was spurting from a shattered nose one minute, while the crunching sounds of teeth shattering rippled through the air when another blow connected. Chris was splattered with blood and yet the gunslinger did not seem to care. Ezra had remembered how Chris had looked the day that he had come face to face with Cletus Fowler, the man responsible for the death of Sarah and Adam Larabee. The rest of the seven were certain that he was going to kill Fowler with his bare hands. Chris had looked that crazed. However, what Ezra was seeing now made that pale in comparison.

Whatever was in Chris Larabee's eyes was like nothing that Ezra had ever seen in the man. No penetrating Larabee glare that was enough to stop a man dead in his tracks. His eyes were almost black and as his fists continued to fly until the flesh beneath them was reduced to pulp, gaining momentum with each hungered cry of his blood thirsty audience, it did not look like Chris was going to stop until his opponent cried surrender. The moment came sooner than Ezra would believe when the man collapsed on the ground, his face nothing more than a bloodied mess of flesh. The crowd seemed to go wild with the defeat and they cheered Chris on with even more ferocity than before. Its power was such that even Ezra could feel a little of the hypnotic strength they wielded over the person who adulation was the cause of it.

The man lay still and unmoving as Chris stood above him. Ezra held his breath as he saw that damned grin across Chris Larabee's face, the grin that made his skin grow cold and ensured that the moment would be frozen in the gambler's mind forever. At least the carnage was over, Ezra thought with a sigh of relief, unable to believe that things could get any worse or this situation could become any more confusing. He had no idea what to think and he could not imagine how he would relate this tale to the others.

Just when Ezra had thought he had seen all that he could today, Chris bent over his fallen opponent and grabbed the man's neck. There was a brief instant of time before he actually made contact with the man that Ezra thought he might be making a move to help his enemy up to his feet but that illusion was shattered by the squelching of a neck being snapped. Ezra's jaw dropped open in horror as he watched Chris coolly and efficiently killing a man who was incapable of offering any resistance. It was without any shadow of a doubt, murder.

The audience broke into a roar of applause and then continued to chant his name as Chris regarded them all, soaking in their cheers and reveling in the victory he had just achieved like a man who had the world in his palm. Ezra felt his throat go dry and continued to watching, not knowing what else to do. Chris' arms were raised as he strode towards Laurel's private box and leapt to the edge of the stone wall, pulling himself over the rock far enough for her to meet him part way. The crowd began to whistle and cheer with bawdy wolf whistles as Laurel pressed her mouth against Chris and they engaged in a rather public and passionate exchange.

Ezra could watch no more and he pushed himself up from his seat, deciding he had to get back to the others. His departure was hardly noticed by the crowd who was going wild for Chris after that display of brutal skill. Ezra was almost in a stupor as he fought his way to the aisle, shaken to the core and trying his best not to show it. He had to leave here with what he knew and now that he had seen what Chris had done in the ring, he was not certain of anything any more.

"Leaving so soon?" The usher who had brought him to his seat was standing by the door as Ezra made his way towards it.

"Yes I'm afraid I have a previous engagement with a young lady at one of your charming establishments." Ezra said with a smooth drawl, generating the best picture of southern calm that he could possibly manage.

"That's a shame." The young man said pleasantly. "At least you got to see Larabee fight."

"That is true," Ezra replied, forcing a smile across his face as he nodded in agreement. "Tell me, how long has he been fighting?"

"Well he's been in the ring three times now." The usher answered readily, hiding nothing but then Ezra supposed that there was little reason to when he considered the gambler to be just another guest who was inquiring out of curiosity. "He didn't make his first kill until two days ago though."

"He does seem to be very close with Miss Chase," Ezra commented, wishing to garner as much information about how that particular tryst has come about.

"Well he's a lucky man," the young man sighed with more than just a hint of envy. "She doesn't normally get involved with her fighters but then I suppose Larabee has been pretty impressive in the ring."

"Yes," Ezra nodded slowly, remembering that terrible sound of bone snapping. "He was indeed."

* * *

Ezra left Sparta almost in a daze and all the while during his journey back to the top of the canyon walls where Vin and Buck were waiting for him, he tried to correlate everything he had seen into some discernible form in order to explain what he had seen. Despite his extensive vocabulary, Ezra was certain there was going to be no way he could truly explain what he had seen in Sparta without encountering some measure of disbelief from his comrades. And why should they not look at him as if he was insane after he told them this story? Even Ezra had trouble believing that he had watched Chris Larabeemurdering a man with his bare hand shortly before he had engaged in an intimate display with Laurel Chase before an entire crowd of people.

The gambler's mind was still in disarray when he returned to the campfire around which Vin and Buck had spent the duration of his visit in Sparta, warming their hands over a hot cup of coffee. The moment Ezra step into gentle glow of the fire that radiated outwards in a sphere of amber, Vin could tell something was wrong. The man was hesitant and his eyes showed clearly that he was troubled which immediately put the tracker on guard because Ezra was not prone to exaggeration unless he was discussing one of his card playing exploits or a dalliance with a lady. The look in his eyes was so marked that Buck caught it as well and both men immediately tensed as Ezra took helped himself to a cup of coffee and sat down.

"We have a problem." He opened his report because that was the only way he could begin without plunging into a litany of disbelief that would make sense to no one.

"What do you mean?" Buck asked first while Vin was merely contented to listen. "Do you see him?"

"I saw him," Ezra nodded, not needing it to be clarified that by 'him' Buck meant Mr Zhang. "I also saw Miss Chase."

"She was there?" Buck asked.

"If my observations were correct and the conversation I had with a young man in the establishment, it appears that Miss Chase more or less built Sparta. She was the one who began the Arena. She was the one who created that charming town we see before us, acquired the initial patrons who were sure to pass the word of its delights to the right circles and it was she who brought the gambling houses and the bordellos here under very strict conditions." Ezra spoke very slowly.

"What is it Ezra?" Vin asked, feeling this tightening in his chest he could not explain because of the way Ezra looked.

"I saw Mr Larabee." The gambler announced.

"Chris?" Buck exploded. "You saw him? Where? Was he alright?"

For a man who had seen the object of their search, Vin noted that Ezra did not appear to eager to tell them more about it and that concerned him. He began to wonder what the hell that Ezra had seen down there that made him so damned afraid to tell them. Was Chris dead? Is that what Ezra could not bring himself to tell them?

 "Mr Larabee is fine. In fact, he is so fine that he is one of the main attractions in the Arena." Ezra announced taking another deep sip of his coffee as he left his companions with that piece of news to reflect upon.

"What?" Buck exclaimed in nothing less than shock. "You're kidding right?" He looked at Ezra with a mixture of aghast horror and astonishment, more or less the same reaction that Ezra had worn on his face when he had seen Chris step into the Arena.

"No," he shook his head somberly and met Vin's eyes. The tracker was silent but listening. He was reserving judgement until he heard everything that Ezra had to say. "I wish I were making a jest but I am afraid that I am not. I just bore witness to Mr Larabee stepping into the Arena and do battle with an opponent in hand to hand combat where after he had reduced the man to pulp, snapped his neck like kindling."

"Are you out of your fucking mind?" Buck jumped to his feet in outrage, angered to the point that he was almost ready to draw his gun at the slanderous allegations that Ezra was making. "We're talking about Chris Larabee here! Chris ain't no murderer. He don't kill a man that's down. We all know that!" He gave Vin a quick glance, expecting the tracker to support him but Vin said nothing still.

"You do not have to tell me that Buck!" Ezra retorted angrily. "I sat there and watched him, using all those same arguments but apparently, that did little good since Chris did continue to pulverise the poor bastard they put in the ring with him. You did not see how he looked Buck when he was engaging in this activity. He was almost enjoying it!"

"You're crazy!" Buck grabbed Ezra by the collar and dragged him to his feet, preparing to take him to task over such a horrifying statement. The gambler prepared to react in kind and two men who had ridden together for the past three years, who had fought alongside one another and shared each other's defeats and triumphs were reduced to a state that they were going to take to each other with their fists. Such was the nature of what Chris Larabee meant to them that the news that their leader was committing such heinous acts of brutality was taking the sense from all of them.

"That's enough!" Vin Tanner barked at the two of them to snap them out of their enraged fervour. "We got enough trouble with Chris without you two going stupid on me! I need you both to figure out what the hell is going on and Buck, you know Ezra wouldn't lie about something like this! You know it!"

Buck dropped his gaze to the ground in a mixture of shame and acknowledgement that Vin was right about that. Ezra was always playing angles but that did not mean taking liberties with the feelings of his friends. He let go of the gambler's lapel and met Ezra's eyes to see the same reflection of remorse at their outburst. "I'm sorry Ez," Buck offered a genuine apology. "I kinda lost my head there."

"I understand," Ezra said with a faint smile, brushing his coat down when Buck let him go. "I had as much trouble witnessing it as you do believing it Mr Wilmington but I swear to you, I saw what I saw."

"We ain't doubting that Ezra," Vin added his voice into the mix. "It's just a lot to take in that's all. Now why don't we sit down and you tell what else you know."

Ezra nodded and they all nestled down in front of the fire again, a little calmer but a great deal more at odds with what they had been told in regards to what Ezra had seen in Sparta. Throughout the course of their search, things had been simple in the sense that they knew they had to find Chris and upon finding their leader, they would only have to rescue him for things to be as they were again. However, what Ezra just told them changed everything and suddenly simplicity was nowhere in sight and the situation had just taken a turn which none of them knew how to traverse.

"From the beginning, tell us what happened?" Vin asked once more.

Ezra nodded and let out a deep breath. "I went to the Arena because we saw Mr Zhang heading in that general direction." He began. "Upon taking a seat, I searched the stands of the Arena for the gentlemen in question and saw him appear shortly after with Miss Chase. I recognised her from your description immediately. I also must say that you were not exaggerating in your description of the lady, she was truly magnificent." Ezra commended, drawing a little smile from Vin but no one interrupted him.

"Then Mr Larabee appeared onto the ring and I was to learn later from an usher on premises that this is his third kill." Ezra responded and saw the reaction in the faces of his companions but chose to continue nonetheless. "He did not appear restrained nor under duress. In fact, the crowd were rather taken by him and were cheering his name most loudly. Mr Larabee seemed very comfortable with their applause and pandered to his audience in some respects. His opponent soon entered the ring and they began to fight with Mr Larabee moving to a quick victory. When the man was down, I assumed that the contest was over but apparently the reason why the Arena has the popularity it does is because it is a fight to the death."

"Damn." Buck whispered hoarsely.

"Mr Larabee completed the competition in the manner required most expediently and then seemed rather pleased by his efforts." Ezra spoke softly, his voice shaking a little because he knew what he was saying was the truth but he still had trouble believing it. "He also appears to be on rather intimate terms with Miss Chase. Following the conclusion of the fight, I saw him kiss her and it did not appear to be involuntary." 

"Chris would never betray Mary!" Buck exclaimed, incensed by Ezra's words and more so because Ezra was not lying. "Hell, he was the most faithful man I knew when he was married to both Sarah and Mary. Chris don't believe in tomcatting around."

"Something has happened to him." Vin cut through Buck's ravings with that one sentence spoken in his usual too soft voice that was loud enough to be heard by everyone when it needed to be.

"Like what?" Ezra asked, wishing Vin had an answer because he needed to believe that they had not completely misjudged Mr Larabee after three years of riding together. "He did these things of his free will."

"Maybe he did," Vin turned back to Ezra, not disagreeing with him on that fact but he had seen a lot of strange things in his time, in fact they all had. "I think all of us here now that sometimes things ain't what they seem and the biggest trick of all is the belief that free will is absolute."

"Isis." Ezra spoke up without hesitation.

"Isis." Vin agreed.

"This ain't about alien creatures taking over Chris," Buck interrupted. "This is about one woman kidnapping him and changing him in ten days from a person we know to a cold blooded killer!"

"That is true," Ezra agreed, more incline to accept Vin's explanation no matter how vague because he could think of no other reason Chris would make such a bout face. They all knew the man, some of them longer than others but they knew him. They knew him to be a man of honour who rode the edge of something dark and unseen, using the abyss to centre himself while still bathed in the light. Chris would not cross over without very good reason. "I am certain that however, this came about, Miss Chase is responsible for it."

"I think so too," Vin agreed with that statement most wholeheartedly. "However, what we have to do now is to get Chris out of there before we can work out what she did to him."

"That's easier said than done." Buck remarked glancing at the lights of Sparta below them. "If she runs that place, it's a sure bet that she's got men working for her that will make a pretty good show of stopping us."

"So we're going to need help," Vin remarked.

"I do agree," Ezra nodded. "However I do have a suggestion Mr Tanner which I do not think you will like but I feel is necessary."

Vin looked at Ezra, wondering what he was getting at. It was not as if there were enough things about this entire situation that he did not like already.

"We may need Alexandra here." The gambler offered gingerly.

"Forget it." Vin said abruptly, not even having to think that. "Not a chance in hell."

"Vin think about this," Ezra replied just as quickly. "You don't know that Chris will come with us willingly."

"Of course he will." Vin retorted and then considered what the gambler was really saying. If whatever Laurel Chase had done to alter Chris to such a state that he was incapable of telling right from wrong and would murder a man in cold blood, who was to say that he would be anymore lucid about leaving with them when they attempted to rescue him.

"He's right Vin," Buck found himself agreeing with Ezra on this point. Chris' actions in the Arena had proved they did not know anything any more and the risks on gambling that Chris would leave with them voluntarily was too extreme to leave to chance. "We may have to knock him out to get him out of there. We may have to do it all the way back to Four Corners and maybe if Alex is here, she can figure what the bitch did to him."

"Nathan can do that." Vin said automatically, not all happy at the idea of bringing Alex to this place of danger.

"No he can't," Buck countered. "We're gonna need all the extra hands we can get just breaking Chris out of that place. He can't be running around wearing two hats and I don't think Nathan has the know how to keep Chris out all the way back to Four Corners if its needed. I don't think even he would agree to it."

"Alright," Vin groaned out loud after a moment, conceding defeat on this point because they were right. They did need Alex here if things with Chris was as bad as it seemed. "We'll ride as soon as we can to the next town we find and wire the others here." He paused a moment and then added.

"I'll tell them to bring Alex too."

* * *

It took two days after Vin had sent a wire from the nearest town they could find with a telegraph service for the rest of the seven to arrive with Alexandra Styles. The doctor was none to happy to be recruited for this duty especially when Mary was in Four Corners, still recovering from the premature birth of her son. While both mother and child were doing fine, Alex preferred to remain close by but she also knew that if Vin requested her presence then there was a very good reason for it. She assumed that there was something wrong with Chris that required a medical opinion but could not understand why Nathan was not adequate to handle the problem. In the past, the seven never had any difficulty relying on Nathan's skill for their medical needs which made the doctor wonder why her presence was required.

After receiving the telegram from Vin, Nathan, JD, Josiah and Alex followed the tracker's instructions and rode towards the mythical city known as Sparta, which was familiar to none of them. Despite the arduous journey over desert terrain, Alex could not deny that it was worth the trouble just to see Vin again. They had been married now for little more than a few weeks and the honeymoon atmosphere had yet to fade away as she found nothing more deliriously satisfying than to wake up in the morning and find him there spooning up against her.

As instructed, they made their approach to the canyon where Sparta was hidden during the day, since most of Sparta's activities seemed to take place at night. In the day, the town was relatively quiet and it was mostly during the night that it came alive. Morning in Sparta was a time to rest and recover, in preparation of the revelry to be had when the sun came down again. The four riders, mindful of their lives depending on the secrecy of their approach, took every precaution not to be seen and soon found themselves joining the comrades who were lying in wait for them.

The reunion, when the moment came were happy ones with Vin and Alex, meeting each other with the same heated passion that was always present whenever they saw each other, even more so now that they were married. Still despite his happiness to see Alex, Vin wished it had been under better circumstances that he had summoned her here. Once all the greetings and salutations had been made, the group sat down to discuss the news at home and also the circumstance in which Ezra had found Chris two nights ago.

"I don't believe it." JD said it first because the boy more or less idolised Chris Larabee and there was no way they could hide the truth from him, especially if the seven intended to mount a rescue attempt. The young man looked horrified following Ezra's narration of events as opposed to his older companions who were more accustomed to hiding their feelings than he. "Chris wouldn't just kill a man!"  

"I saw him Mr Dunne," Ezra said somberly, hating to shatter his image of Chris but he had to be told. "There can be no doubt of what he had done."

"Look," Vin spoke up for the benefit of all those present, JD especially. "The woman's had Chris kidnapped, we don't know what she could have done to him in the past week that could have made him like this."

"You said of his free will." Alex asked, needing clarification on this.

"Yeah," Vin nodded. "He was also mighty friendly with Miss Chase." The tracker replied, loathed to tell his wife that after she had revealed that it was only a few days ago that she had delivered Chris' child.

Alex considered what could cause such a radical change in the man's behavior if this was indeed done to him as the seven were determined to believe. She raised her eyes to Nathan, because like her, he would no doubt be thinking along the same lines as she.

"I seen opium make a man do some pretty disgusting things." Nathan offered remembering the instance he had been at the railway camp and saw an oriental addicted to opium be willing to sell his lovely young niece to anyone willing to pay for the privilege, just so that he could support his habit. "It could be that." 

"I think you are right," Alex remarked. "I think it could be a narcotic of some kind if we are assuming that she altered him in some way, but not opium. Opium addiction to the degree that would produce the kind of behaviour that Chris is displaying takes time. You said that he was enjoying it when he was fighting this guy?" Alex looked at Ezra in question.

"Yes," Ezra's stomach hollowed remembering the look of relish in Chris' face when he was pumelling the man to death. "He was enjoying it a great deal."

"Well that is consistent with some either an opiate or a concentrate derivative of morphine which is from the same family," she replied, trying to dredge up what she remembered about narcotics and the effects of chemicals on the body. "The user gets a feeling of heightened awareness. If he's on this stuff then he's going to be twice as strong. He'll put his hand through brick wall and wouldn't know it even if he's broken every bone in his hand."

"Jesus." Buck whispered.

"But at this stage I can't be sure of anything until I get a look at him." Alex added. "I'm just throwing suggestions at you guys, I mean what Ezra is describing sounds like an addiction to some kind of narcotic but for Chris to go so far over the edge in just a week tell me that there's something else at work here. You said she drugged you Vin," she looked at her husband. "Did you remember what it smelled like?"

"Like your clinic." He pointed out.

"Chloroform." Both Alex and Nathan said in unison.

"She must be quite skilled to know just the right amount to use to keep you asleep all night Vin," Alex suddenly realised and a new thought struck her. "This woman tell you what she did for a living?"

"No," Vin shook his head, sensing that there was some importance attached to his wife's question. "Why?"

"Not many people know how to use chloroform Vin," Nathan explained for her, understanding why Alex had asked as well. "Usually you want to knock someone out, you just use ether. Chloroform is something used mostly by doctors and people with some medical background."

"So you think she's a doctor?" Josiah asked.

"Could be." Alex responded. "I don't think there are many schools in the States that offer women college level education and there are no medical schools at all. I am quite certain that women who wish to become doctors in this country have to go to Cambridge or Oxford, since they've allowed women to take exams since 1862."

"All men equal unto God," Josiah snorted with a hint of derision. "What if she is a doctor?"

"If she is a doctor and I'm praying she's not," Alex added. "She may have concocted something new, something no one has seen before and pumped it into his veins. If he did, then I don't know what we can do to help him."

"Well let's get him back first," Vin declared. "We'll figure the rest out later"

* * *

Entering Sparta unnoticed was no easy thing. Having waylaid a carriage full of irate dilettantes on their way to the place to sample its delights, the six lawmen and lady doctor bundled into its confines, leaving their prisoners discreetly hidden with assurances of their return at a later time. Since it was desert in almost all directions, Vin was fairly certain that they would not attempt to make the crossing on foot and honestly, it did not appear that any one of the visitors to Sparta had ever been accustomed to such strenuous activity to try anyway.

With Vin hidden carefully out of sight because Laurel would recognise him instantly if she laid eyes upon him, Josiah and Nathan took up the role of carriage drivers and luggage handlers. JD and Buck and cleaned up as best they could and kept mostly within the shadows of the carriage while Ezra and Alex would do all the talking in case they were stopped for any reason. As it was, nothing of the sort took place and the carriage rumbled through the centre of town without any questions being asked. Alex had thought it unusual when Vin had requested that she pack 'something pretty' as he put it and understood why now, since their penetration into the Arena would require a bit of play acting.

Alex and Ezra would stick close to Laurel and Mr Zhang, while the rest of the seven would spread out around town and make preparations for their eventual escape. One hour into the games, it would all come together. Vin would be responsible for removing Chris and hopefully Alex would have sparked Laurel's interest enough to allow the woman to let down her defenses. In the meantime, JD would have the carriage they had stolen waiting in a strategic place near the Arena for when the time came for their quick get away. Vin hated using Alex in this action, as much as he hated the fact that knew little about how many hired guns Laurel had in her stable. However, they did not have much choice in the matter.

"You ready?" Ezra asked as he and Alex walked into the Arena once more and immediately scanned the area for the presence of Laurel Chase. Alex was dressed in blue brocade dress, which clung tightly to her figure and pushed her ample bosom up so that any man who looked at her would have good reason not to be casting his eye upon her face. Alex claimed she rarely wore the gown and all Ezra could thing as she made that statement was that it had to be a crime in someone's book. Ezra would not help thinking Vin was a lucky man indeed as he remembered what it was like to make love to her just before he gave himself a stern reminder to keep his mind on the business on hand.

Laurel Chase had arrived a little earlier this time, with Mr Zhang in attendance at her side as usual. The competition for the evening had yet to begin and so Ezra decided this was a good a time as any to approach Miss Chase. As instructed, he would let Alex do the talking since it was the only way to curry favourwith the woman enough for her to speak about what she had done to Chris if she thought Alex as a contemporary. Although Vin had intended to allow her to move about freely in Sparta, he had never intended Alex to have direct confrontation with Laurel. However, the doctor suspected that in order to cure Chris of whatever was done to him, the intelligence was necessary and thus had convinced the tracker to make this addendum to his plan.

"As I will ever be." Alex let out a deep breath as he offered her a gloved hand and she took it.

The two of them made a handsome couple and seemed to blend into the collection of rich visitors to the arena as they walked down the aisle that led to the private box where Laurel Chase and Mr Zhang were waiting for the commencement of the games. As they neared the low swing doors that led into its confines, Mr Zhang immediately caught sight of their approach and watched them cautiously as they paused before it. He leaned over and whispered in Laurel Chase's ear who instinctively cast her high powered gaze in their direction. She looked them over carefully before responding to Mr Zhang whispers. The enormous oriental was on the move again and he met the two of them at the face to face.

"You are seeking something?" He asked politely.

"I wish to speak to Miss Chase." Alex spoke up fearlessly, determined not to show this man any sign of weakness because she was certain he would spot it. She spoke loud enough for Laurel to hear.

"For what purpose?" He questioned once again.

"What I have to discuss with Miss Chase is for her only, I do not waste my time conveying matters too complex for lackeys to understand."

Ezra turned to Alex, staring at her in amazement as well as mild horror. Did she really want to provoke this creature into something unfortunate and wondered whether or not he should have done the talking. However, instead of engendering Mr Zhang's displeasure, Ezra saw Laurel breaking into a faint smile before she spoke up.  

"Its alright Zhang," Laurel replied in a silky tone of voice. "Let them through."

Zhang gave Alex a filthy look but was not about to disobey his lady's orders and merely frowned as he pulled open the door for the near arrivals to enter the private box. Alex flashed Ezra a confident smile as the gambler gestured 'ladies first' and watched with amusement as the doctor swept past him, head held high as she prepared to do battle with a most unusual enemy.

"Now what is so important that it required you to insult my man?" Laurel regarded Alex as she saw the woman and the attractive companion next to her.

"Business." Alex said confidently. "That's always important, is it not?"

"Naturally." Laurel remarked and gestured for Alex and Ezra to sit. Alex lowered herself on the seat next to Laurel while the lady ordered Zhang to pour them both a drink from a bottle of wine that sat chilling in a silver bucket near them.

"And what kind of business proposition do you have in mind?"

"I believe I can be of help to you and your organisation." Alex announced and then introduced herself. "My name is Doctor Alexandra Styles." She extended a gloved hand towards Laurel who took it. "This is my...companion, Ezra Standish."

"Companion?" Laurel asked with a hint of suggestion.

"He serves in a capacity not unlike your man here," Alex glanced in Zhang's direction. "Although he does possess some added talents that one does not list on a resume."

Ezra cleared his throat, feeling a little annoyed that he was being discussed like a piece of meat but then supposed that the comment was necessary for the deception they were attempting to carry out. At least he hoped it was for that reason anyway. However, since Alex appeared to be capturing Laurel's interest, he remained silent and allowed her to continue.

"You said Doctor Styles," Laurel looked at Alex. "A doctor of what?"

"Medicine." Alex said coolly. "I am a graduate of London Medical College, not a saw bones as they like to call it in this part of the world but a bona fide practitioner of the medical arts."

"Oxford," Laurel nodded, aware that such accreditation for women was possible at that notable institution in Europe. "I am impressed. Lady doctors are rare."

"Yes they are and if it were not for my inheritance, I would find it almost impossible to practice. However, money allows one to travel in certain circles and I came to learn of your charming place here. I must admit I am impressed." Alex remarked, keeping her flattery realistic because while this woman may be the most breathtaking specimen of the gender that Alex had ever seen in her life, to underestimate her mind because of her face was a fatal mistake.

"Why thank you," Laurel answered, genuinely surprised to find an educated woman of _almost_ her intellectual equal. "Now I am intrigued by your remark about a business proposal. What exactly did you have in mind?"

Alex held the glass of wine to her lips and took a sip of it before she responded. "I was at the fight last night and I had reason to observe most of your fighters. I must say they are extremely well coordinated and fast. In fact their response time and stamina is beyond exemplary, you must have them on a strict regimen of physical training." Alex met Laurel's gaze.

"Adequately strict." Laurel said carefully.

"Oh perhaps they had help." Alex stated.

"Help?" The lady replied without batting an eye. "What sort of help?"

"The chemical kind." Alex answered. "You see when I observe men who barely register pain when their hands are broken and bleeding and still manage to fight, I can only draw one conclusion."

Laurel tensed. "And that would be?"

"You're dabbling in chemical enhancements for your fighters which in my opinion is a rather novel approach," Alex answered, quickly disarming her from becoming too suspicious. "Most people would just train them to death but what you've done is genius."

"Thank you," Laurel replied. "Now get to the point of your little business proposal."

"Alright then," Alex said with a smile. "You need a doctor, one that won't ask questions, who has extensive experience in biochemistry and access to medical knowledge regarding chemical stimuli that is listed in no book anywhere in the medical community. My father traveled extensively across the world studying different medical practices. Judging from the sophistication of what you have done, I seriously doubt there is very little I can do to improve your operation but a doctor on staff is a valuable asset. Whether or not you have discovered that such chemical abuse can lead to long term health problems, the fact of the matter is, the more successful your fighters are and the longer they stay alive, it will become overt. I am sure I can help with you deal with that too."

In truth, Laurel did suspect there would be such problems arising from the use of Ambrosia over a long term and whether or not Alexandra Styles was genuine in her desire to join her, Laurel had to confess she was intrigued.

"Mr Zhang," Laurel said after a moment. "Keep Mr Standish here company," she looked at the huge oriental. "Miss Styles and I are going to take a little tour of our facility."

 


	7. Frenzy

 

 Vin Tanner cast his gaze across the square that lay between himself and the main entrance of the building known to the visitors of Sparta as the Arena. At this time, the enormous wooden doors leading into the amphitheater were closed to the rest of the public as the games had well and truly commenced, if the dull roar he could hear through the brick was any indicator. He wondered if Chris was battling it out in the ring like some trained animal and hoped that was not the case. Vin was going to have enough difficulty finding his way in without that complication.

 Scattered across Sparta at strategic locations were the rest of the seven. Josiah and Nathan was scouting the line of sight between Sparta and the pass that lead out of the canyon, trying to discover if Laurel Chase had guards protecting it from intruders. He had to assume there were because the woman was no fool and he doubt she allow her enemies that kind of an advantage without being vigilant. The two lawmen would ensure that when the time came, they would be able to get Chris out in safety without being impeded by Laurel's hired guns when they finally made their gateway.

 As he thought that, he glanced towards the alley in between a nearby hotel and restaurant only to see JD waiting patiently for them, whilst perched on top of the carriage that would provide their transport out of here when they ready to leave. In the meantime, Buck Wilmington was presently carrying out the part of the plan that would offer a little bit of distraction that would give them the leverage they needed to keep ahead of Laurel's men if they meant to get Chris back.

 Even though Sparta was lively at this time of night, most of the people on the street were drunk and too involved in entertaining themselves with the revelry that the town offered to be concerned with his presence. Vin was certain that Laurel and Mr Zhang would be inside the Arena at this moment and thus not likely to recognise him as he made his attempt to infiltrate the adjoining buildings where he was certain Chris would be imprisoned.

 For as far as the eye could see, the main structure of the Arena was a circular length of wall that enclosed the ring and stands for the paying audience. Vin found little difficulty in skimming the edge of the structure and following the curved rock until he found a length of fence that tapered away from the Arena itself and led to a collection of buildings that was a separate but nonetheless an attachment of the original. Climbing stealthily over the fence, he dropped into the grounds within and took advantage of the shadow cast by both the towering amphitheater over him and the structures ahead. Observing how they were interconnected with the Arena itself, Vin spied what look like a walkway that from ran from stadium to the largest building inside within the fenced area.

Deciding that was as good as any place to start, the tracker began following the passageway to wherever it lead him. He knew that he had some time and though he disliked it intensely, Vin knew that Alex and Ezra would keep Laurel Chase and her Goliath busy for a time while he made his search. According to Ezra who had spent considerable time in Sparta the past two days while waiting for Alex and the others to arrive, Chris would not be fighting tonight. It was Laurel's habit not to utilise her main attraction frequently in order to make his appearance something of an event.

 The idea that Chris Larabee had been turned into a side show attraction hollowed the insides of Vin's stomach each time he thought of his best friend trapped in those circumstances. As much as he loathed to believe it when Ezra had revealed what he saw Chris do, Vin knew that was the only plausible explanation. Nothing else answered the question why Laurel Chase had taken such great pains to kidnap Chris. Before that day in Vesta City, the woman had never laid eyes upon the gunslinger and following the first sighting, Vin was certain she had decided that Chris was viable livestock for her exhibition of performing animals.

 He hoped that even if they did manage rescue Chris from this place, they were still able to save him. The nature of what had been done to him did not make those two actions one. Rescuing Chris was not enough because of what Laurel had done to him. The manner in which she had twisted everything that was Chris Larabee into a darker mirror of himself was a mystery they had to break in order to shatter the reflection and return the gunslinger to who he had been before the stupor of drugs had made him a killer.

The walkway finally ran its course in front of a large set of door leading into the depth of the building away from the Arena he had sighted upon first entering the place. Vin unsheathed his Winchester, prepared to shoot the first thing he saw that gave him reason to do. His intention to bring Chris home to Four Corners had driven an edge of ruthlessness to his manner. It did not often surface but when it did, people who bore witness to its presence knew wisely to keep their distance.

 The doors were unlocked and the tracker entered what appeared to be an exercise room of some kind. It was hug and sprawling and the only reason he recognised the odd apparatus that littered its waxed floor was because he had seen some of equipment in those fancy magazines that Alex had sent to her from the big city. Judging by the volume of the equipment, Vin realised that Laurel had quite an extensive troop of pugilists under her control and he wondered if they all had been snared the way Chris had. Did those men have families who were still wondering what became of them?

 A deep sense of moral outrage rose inside of him and any attraction he might have once held for the female in the centre of all this misery withered up and died, leaving a residue of hatred inside Vin that demanded satisfaction. This had to stop. Someone had to stop it. While his main concern at the moment was retrieving Chris Larabee, Vin knew that once his friend was safely away from here and delivered home to his wife and newborn son, Vin was going to take steps to ensure that this place be dismantled, brick by tainted brick.

 He crossed the floor of the gymnasium and exited through the doors on the other side of the sprawling room. Once he passed through that opening, he found himself at a corridor with many doors flanking him as he continued up the carpeted floor. He listened closely as he moved, with the sense of a hunter used to listening to animals move with far more silence than any human could manage. He could tell instantly which rooms were occupied and which were not as he walked up. Some of the rooms were lavishly decorated and had the lived look of being someone's domicile. He saw objects and clothes, not to mention the warm smell of comfort that came whenever stepping unwanted into somebody's private domain.

 He was almost to the end of the corridor when he heard feminine voice speaking behind one door and froze when he realised that voice belonged to Alex. For a moment, he was almost tempted to barge in and then decided against it. Judging from her tone and the cool deliberation in his wife's speech, it did not take him long to understand that she was successfully completing her part in this rescue by keeping Laurel Chase busy. The two women were speaking as colleagues and he did not understand what they were talking about when they descended into discussion about drugs and chemicals with names so long it was mind boggling for Vin to imagine how to say it, let alone what it was. It did not appear as if Zhang was in the room with them and so Vin felt that the best thing he could do for the moment was to continue his search and come back for Alex later. She did not seem to be in trouble and he did not want to tip their hand by exposing her with his attempt at rescue.

 As he distanced himself from the room within which Alex and Laurel were conferring with no awareness of his presence, Vin continued up the corridor and noticed something odd about the door that was situated at the end. The most telling thing about it that set it apart from all others was the fact that it seemed to have a primary door not unlike that found in a jail cell and then a secondary door like all the others in the corridor. The instincts which he relied upon with more trust than any other thing in his life, save the man he was attempting to free, told him that he was close to what he was seeking. Taking a deep breath, Vin approached the dual set of doors with extreme stealth, not wishing discovery, not until he learnt what inside it.

With footsteps that were soundless, Vin neared the bars and paused a moment as he listened closely and knew that someone was occupying the room. He knew was taking a gamble on intruding especially when the consequence for being wrong could be dire but Vin had an epiphany of sorts that told him that he was right. Slipping his hand through the thick bars, he placed his hand on the doorknob and twisted gently, hearing the lock mechanism click into place as the bolt slid out of its brass fastenings. There was a slight creak as he pushed against the inner door, allowing it to swing backwards.

 Vin found himself staring at Chris.

The gunslinger had obviously been attracted by the sound of lock turning and had come to investigate, pausing a few feet away from the doorway, clearing its arch as it swung back. Chris was clad in pair of dark trouser and nothing else, no shoes or shirt. He stood there looking at Vin for a moment with dark eyes that seemed cold, almost alien. For a second neither man knew what to say. Vin had always been able to read Chris from the first moment they had met, conveying all that needed to be said between each other with a simple look that meant far more than anyone could manage with the spoken word. For the first time since Vin had known Chris, he did not know what his best friend was thinking. 

"Chris," Vin finally spoke first, hoping that the drugs had not addled the gunslinger's mind so badly that he did not know whom the tracker was. 

"V...Vin?" The sound escaped Chris almost involuntarily.

 "Yeah," Vin smiled, pleased for that much at least. "I'm going to get you out of here pard." Vin answered, letting those strings words escape him in order to prove to Chris that his moment of freedom had finally come, that this was no illusion created by whatever poison Laurel Chase had made him kill those men in the ring. "I'm taking you home."

 "Home." Chris mouthed the word.

 "Yeah," Vin nodded. "We've been tearing the countryside apart trying to find you." He explained, noticing that Chris did not seem very excited about the prospect. In fact, he appeared rather indifferent to it all. "You've got a wife and son waiting for you at home."

 "No." Chris shook his head after a moment, showing no effect whatsoever at being told that he was a father again. "I can't go home."

 "Chris," Vin showed just as much indifference to that statement because he knew that Chris was not in his right mind, that it was the effect of what Laurel Chase had done to him that was making him like this. "You can go home. Mary is waiting. You wife is waiting for you at home. She's been worried sick about you."

 "I don't have a wife," Chris replied. "I have Laurel."

 Vin almost blanched at that thought and realised just how deeply Laurel's poisoning of his mind had gone. "Chris, I ain't got time for this. Stand aside, cause I'm getting that door open and we're going home." The tracker aimed his Winchester at the lock, aware that it was going to bring everybody down on his ears when he was done but listening to Chris talk had sparked his fear despite himself. Everything about the gunslinger seemed so detached. It did not appear his memory of the people in his life was impaired but rather he just did not care.

 "Don't bother," Chris replied and stepped forward, pushing against the bar and allowing the steel door to swing towards Vin. "It ain't locked no more. There ain't no reason for it to be." He explained. "I'm home already."

 "You're not home!" Vin hissed in exasperation as he stood back and understood how bad things were about to get. "This ain't you home and that woman has made you crazy. You have a wife for Christ sake! She almost died giving birth to your son!"

 "My son is dead." Chris stepped out of the room and into the hall, closing in on Vin in a predatory approach that the tracker recognised immediately and stepped back from him.

 Vin knew what was happening. There was a time in the days when he still hunted buffalo when a mountain lion had gotten his scent and stalked him for days before attacking. He remembered seeing its eyes in the dark as it moved in for the kill, the scent of the prey thick in its lungs. It was the same look that Chris Larabee was now looking at him.

 "Adam is dead," Vin nodded in agreement. "But you have two sons now. You have Billy and you have Michael. Isn't that what you and Mary wanted to name your baby?"

 Chris blinked because through the haze of his mind, he could remember those discussions. She with the long golden hair, the one that sometimes crept into his thoughts when he was making love to Laurel, the one that stood between his ability to appreciate the act. "Shut up." He growled, closing his eyes and trying to sort through the confusion in his mind. "Shut up!"

 "Pard," Vin realised with growing anguish how this was going to go down and had no choice but to permit it to happen. "I don't want to hurt you. Come with me now and we'll take you home. You've been hurt bad, you need help." 

"I don't need anything!" Chris' eyes flew open and he glared at Vin with that powerful gaze that could reduce a man to a quivering mound of flesh by the menace that was reflected in them. However, this time there was more than just menace, there was something skirting the edge, about to flare into existence with frenzied rage. "I am stronger and faster than I have ever been. I could take you apart with my bare hands."

 "I'm sure you could." Vin replied cautiously, not about to make the first move. "But why do you want to? We've rode together and we've watched each other's back in more fights that we can name. You trusted me with your life and I've done the same with you. There ain't no reason for you to do that."

 "Sure there is," Chris Larabee smiled coldly. "Because I can."

 Vin swore under his breath, deciding that there was no way out of the corner Chris was painting him into. The drugs had not only stripped away his memory of those who meant something to him but had also robbed him of any moral centre that might have existed inside Chris' psyche. He was poised for attack because Laurel's poison had made him a powder keg of pent up aggression waiting for release anyway he could find it.

 "Chris I don't want to hurt you. Please," Vin responded almost pleading. "Don't make me do this."

 "Do what?" Chris laughed. "You think you can take me Vin?" His eyes danced with maniacal fire as he dared Vin to answer. "You think you can hurt me?"

 "I know I can hurt you." Vin retorted, feeling his own ire inspired by the swagger and arrogance in Chris' voice. Vin had to remind himself that he was preparing to do battle with a predator that was stronger and a whole lot meaner than he was capable of being, who also happened to be his best friend. "I just don't want to."

 "What's the matter Vin?" Chris continued to goad him. "Afraid that sense of honor of yours will get a little dirty? Didn't seem to worry you much when you went from hunting buffalo to hunting men. You didn't seem so high and mighty on your morals when you were turning human beings in for money."

 Chris was trying to provoke him, Vin knew that but the words cut just the same anyway. "You ain't gonna make me throw the first punch Chris." Vin whispered.

 "I ain't afraid to throw the first punch." Chris returned sharply, "I was just trying to give you a kick start."

 "Is that what you call it?" Vin replied and looked down the corridor. So far their presence had gone unnoticed but Vin did not have time for this. He had to get Chris out of here and he had to do it soon. Unfortunately, there was only one way to do it. He took a step towards Chris and without further hesitation, though it pained him greatly, Vin threw his fist forward and connected with the gunslinger's jaw.

 Chris staggered backwards, reeling from the blow but affected no more than that. He looked at Vin with a smile and replied. "Well its about goddamn time."

* * *

Lauren Chase found Alexandra Styles rather intriguing even if she did not fully trust the lady.

 What could not be denied despite that lack of trust was the fact that Laurel could not find any evidence that might contradict the lady's claiming of being a doctor. Alexandra Styles, suspect as she still might be to Laurel was extremely well educated and knew her craft as any good physician might. There was also the added bonus of she being more than just a repository for factual data and was capable of using the knowledge at her disposal to be quite a formidable intellect.

 While it was commonplace for her to have men always clamoring to gain her attention and her favor, it was rare that she found herself on an equal footing with another woman. Although she was confident that in physical beauty she still had no peer that could match her, despite the fact that Alexandra Styles was attractive in an exotic sort of way, it was her mind that held Laurel's interest most. While biochemistry had always interested Laurel, the idea of becoming a doctor had never occurred to the lady during her years of study. Of course, Laurel could find nothing more tedious than to spend one's life mending bones and sewing flesh with catgut while wrist deep in warm organs. However, she did give credit to those who put themselves through the almost backbreaking toil of becoming a physician, particularly when those concerned were female.

 It was this credit that had allowed Laurel to allow Alex into her private laboratory located not far from where Chris Larabee was presently housed. The gunslinger had come a long way since their love making a few nights ago when he had made his first real kill. As she had suspected, once the conditioning of his nobility had been broken, it was easy to further manipulate him with the drugs he unknowingly consumed whenever he sat down to a meal. He no longer had any desire to leave and if he still remembered his wife and family, the need for them had been overridden by the overwhelming desire to vent his aggression at every opportunity. Of course, when he was done venting all that hostility, he had other needs to exhaust almost as frantically and on those occasions, he was every much as delightful as Laurel imagined he would be. 

"I am impressed." Alex remarked and could not deny that part of her meant it. "You have a very well equipped laboratory."

 The room Laurel was presently showing off to her with no small amount of pride impressed Alex. For someone who had roamed the hallowed corridors of Oxford, being one of the finest centres of learning in Europe, not to mention the onus for scientific research in the world, the laboratory where Laurel Chase conducted her feats of biochemical magic deserved the pride bestowed upon it. As her eyes traveled over smooth and tidy work benches with the very latest in scientific equipment perched on its wooden surface, from its Bunsen burner to its tripod stands, everything that a researcher would need to conduct the work that Laurel indulged was a finger tip away.

"Thank you," Laurel responded, her gaze travelling across the shelves containing racks holding vials of every conceivable ingredient she may need for her concoctions. She noted that Alex was studying everything, taking great stock of her private laboratory with great interest. "I do delicate work here and so I insist upon the best."

 "I'm sure that's true," Alex continued to observe. "I don't think I've seen a lab this well equipped since Oxford and that was some years ago."

"Well what I do requires precision." Laurel remarked, leaning against the bench where she did most of the work. Vials of white powder sat in a neat row within a small wooden frame and Laurel picked it up before facing Alex again. "And you Doctor Styles are similarly impressed. I was not quite ready to believe your credentials but our discussions have proved you are anything but a liar in your claims. I must confess the idea of lady doctor in my little organisation does have certain attraction."

 "Thank you," Alex said graciously. "I have the impression that it takes quite a bit to meet with your approval, I am honoured."

 "Well, you may not say the same once I charge you with the task I require." Laurel walked towards her and handed her the vial. "As you so astutely observed, my fighters do have a little bit of enhancement added to their physiology, one whose long term effects you have so accurately pointed out will have future repercussions."

 "Any chemical abuse over a length of time is dangerous," Alex said automatically. "Of course, I cannot determine exactly what rate of deterioration we are talking about until I am allowed to examine the substance you are using."

 Laurel immediately held up the vial for her to see. "I call it Ambrosia." She announced and gestured for Alex to examine it closer if the doctor so wished it.

 Alex was not about to deny herself the chance of getting a sample of the substance that had turned Chris Larabee into a monster but did not want to seem to eager either. She regarded the vial for a moment, before taking it out of Laurel's grip and examining the contents within the vial breaking the cork seal. In its present form, it was little more than a white powder that did not look very different from fine sugar.

 "Interesting." Alex remarked, attempting to appear nonchalant as she made her examination. "So tell me, what is Ambrosia." 

"Originally I considered using an opiate of some form but acquiring it in the quantities I desire is too problematic for my tastes and as you mentioned earlier, long term use will a number of health hazards I am not prepared to deal with." She said breezily as if she might be discussing the recipe to pie as she pulled up a chair and nestled comfortably into it so she could continued her narration. Like all inventers, the opportunity to boast her genius to those who understood it in its full complexity was rare and she was revelling in it. "Eventually I came to the conclusion that if I wished to inhibit the symptoms of physiological degradation than I would have to use something different."

 The manner in which she made that offering to Alex sent an involuntary chill through the doctor as she waited for Laurel to make her revelation regarding her inspiration to go an alternative route in the manufacture of the substance known as poison. "I am intrigued." Alex responded, prompting her to continue.

 "I felt that the problems of introducing something alien into the body could be eliminated if we attempted to use a more natural substance, something that isn't foreign to the human body." Laurel continued to speak. "I read a medical paper some years ago that made mention that the growth and development of the human body was linked to the hormonal substance contained in what is the pituitary gland."

 "Yes," Alex had heard of the same research done on the subject. "Our pituitary gland is supposed to regulate the hormones in our body and effect how we produce it." She had to admit her admiration for this woman as psychotic as she was escalating. The paper was considerably theoretical mostly because the technology to examine the idea in the practical sense had yet to be invented.

 "In human physiology, enzymes are catalytic components which make the chemicals in our body react in one way or another. With this in mind, I decided to isolate the enzyme specially designed to produce testosterone. It is that hormone that makes a male everything that he is, more aggressive, more sexually inspired and more susceptible to his baser instincts. Of course, I made a few other adjustments. The enzyme also increases adrenalin levels making the subject stronger, faster, his senses heightened and ready for the fight."

 "That would make for a very dangerous combination." Alex pointed out, trying her hardest to hide the horror of what this woman had wrought. "How do you maintain the control that you do?"

"Oh that's easy," Laurel smiled. "A little hallucinogenic component added into the mix and the subject becomes extremely susceptible to suggestion. Of course, selection has to be careful. You cannot just use this on  _anyone_. The subject has to be the right sort. There would be a certain amount of natural hostility as well as an aggressive personality to begin with."

 God, Alex shuddered inwardly. She could not imagine how Laurel could appear so calm while relating with great pride how she had more or less engineered a substance that was capable of reducing a normally rational man into a mindless automaton that wanted nothing but to spill blood. The horror of it sat inside her stomach and contaminated her with its filth. The irony of it was, Laurel  _was_  brilliant. What she had accomplished with her concoction put her years ahead of anyone in the world, in regards to biochemistry.  

What in God's name had happened to this woman to make her so completely soulless?

 "I stand in awe." Alex confessed. "That is absolutely remarkable." Suddenly a thought occurred to her and she looked up at Laurel. "You said that the enzyme has to be a natural substance that the body would not reject, where do you get your supply to do your manipulations?"

 Laurel smiled at that question and the glimmer of sinister light that crossed her lovely features struck cold fear in Alex's heart as the doctor realised that there was only one place Laurel could have acquired the pure product. However, the enormity of it was more than Alex could voice, she had to hear the woman say it or else she would not believe it.  

"Identifying the enzyme responsible for the production of the substance made things infinitely simpler but once I did, it was just a matter of extracting my requirements from the source." She replied with complete innocence as if what she was revealing was just another statement of fact. Not an admission of murder.

"The source being anyone who has a pituitary gland."

Alex was about to respond in kind when suddenly they heard noises outside the door in the corridor beyond. It sounded like fighting and Laurel turned around immediately, striding towards it to escape. Alex looked around quickly, having suspected what could have been the cause of the commotion and knew that she had only seconds to act before Laurel raised the alarm and brought her people into the place. Taking note of a heavy book bound in leather, she picked it up soundlessly and advanced upon the woman.

Laurel paused as if some inner instinct was signalling trouble and turned around just in time to receive a face full of hard leather as Alex smashed the bound text against her jaw. Laurel let out a soft cry as she tumbled to the floor, dropping on her knees as she reeled with disorientation. Not allowing her the chance to recover, Alex brought down the book on the back of her head as Laurel was hunched forward on her knees. The second blow effectively knocked whatever conscious thought was left in her body as she collapsed on the ground heavily.

 Alex let out a deep breath and dropped the book from her hands, completely aware that the blows would not keep Laurel out for long. She hurried back into the laboratory and picked up the vial of Ambrosia, requiring a sample if she was ever going to find a way to undo what had been done to Chris Larabee. Tucking the length of glass somewhere safe in her dress, she skipped over Laurel's prone form and made a quick search of the room before heading towards the door. She could hear voices outside and as she pulled it open and peered through the crack it produce upon being ajar.

 Outside the corridor, she saw Chris Larabee and Vin fighting in a bar knuckled brawl.

* * *

  
Vin was fast coming to the conclusion if he did not stop pulling his punches, it would be him that would be dragged out of here not Chris.

 As Vin blocked another incoming blow, a part of him was unable to believe that they had been reduced to this. Laurel's drug had made Chris almost incomprehensible with rage. The manic fire Vin was seeing in his eyes had always been present except then it had manifested itself as the infamous Larabee glare. Until now, Vin had never thought how terrifying it could be to those on the receiving end when they knew that Chris was out to do them harm. When Chris looked that way at any of the seven, they all felt the reassurance of knowing that Chris might have been angry but his feelings for the men he rode with negated the possibility of that rage becoming ugly. Vin was grateful that none of the other could see Chris like this because if they did, that assurance would be destroyed forever, knowing how truly vile Chris' unchecked anger could be if he chose to vent this.

 "Come on Vin," Chris goaded as the succession of punches he had thrown had forced Vin's back to the wall. The gunslinger was on an adernalin high and though he had no intention of killing his friend and Vin was his friend, that much he knew through the stupor of Ambrosia in his veins, he did want to fight him. Chris had always suspected that Vin was quite capable of rising to the occasion. When his passions were properly inspired, Vin could be almost as hot headed as any man and he was especially dangerous that way because there was a hint of calculation that made him spot weakness almost immediately.

 "Is that the best you can do?" He asked, preparing to swing again. "Is that why you always watch and wait, cause you're too scared to do anything else?" He hissed.

 Vin did not answer because he was coming to grips with a decision he had no choice but to make if he wanted to get out of here alive and take Chris with him. He had struck the first blow hoping that whatever altercation that ensued would be quick and decisive but that was not how it had taken place. Chris was moving at a juggernaut pace and each time Vin struck back, the gunslinger became more frenzied and far more dangerous. It was as if he was feeding the fire inside him the more aggressive he became. If there was any consolation to be had in the whole sorry situation, it was the more frenzied Chris became the less focussed he became.

 Vin remained silent as he kept Chris under deep scrutiny, seeking out the vulnerability he could use to put down his best friend without killing him. He saw Chris glaring at him, breathing hard as he prepared to launch himself at Vin again, his blood lust having taken his senses completely and finally giving Vin the edge he needed to finish this once and for all. Enough was enough, they had to get out of here immediately. As it was, they had lingered here too long and soon other would be entering the equation.

 "I'm sorry Chris." Vin found himself saying quietly.

 "Sorry for what?" Chris retorted derisively.

 "Sorry for this." Vin answered just before he slammed his foot into the side of Chris' leg and dropped the gunslinger to his knees. Without pausing, he delivered the second blow into the gunslinger's sternum with his knee while grabbing the arm that was attempted to strike back. As Chris doubled over, Vin brought down his elbow on the back of his neck and completed his hard impact against the floor. As he grovelled on his belly and tried to stand up, Vin took a step backwards, aware that he was far from done. Whatever was running through his body had yet to exhaust itself but Vin's action was done to provoke him further, not to wear him out just yet.  

"Not bad," Chris groaned clutching his chest as he slowly pushed himself up to his feet and glared at Vin. "Wondered when you were gonna show me a little more spirit."

 "I got more spirit than you can handle Chris," Vin said positioning himself carefully before he launched his next attack. "Truth is, you can't do much without whining for that rabid bitch."

 "Don't talk that way about her!" Chris roared with a renewed sense of rage as he lunged at Vin.

Vin who was ready for him, side stepped Chris as he charged. The tracker delivered a double blow as he slammed his elbow into Chris' side and then his face, pulling a surprised cry of outrage from Chris as he reeled back. Taking advantage of his disorientation, Vin moved in for the kill and began throwing a succession of blows, ensuring every punch connected until it was Chris with his back to the wall. His head snapped back with each punch and as much as Vin might think he had enough, the tracker could not allow himself to be clouded with feeling of friendship when it was possible that Chris would kill him for the mistake.

Chris still managed to defend himself, blocking and striking but the momentary advantage Vin had created for himself allowed the sharpshooter to hurt and weaken him. They were playing on a level field now and as they struck at each other, blow for blow, Vin could see Chris becoming exhausted. Whatever he was running on was starting to wind down while Vin on the other hand whose senses were always heightened and never prone to lose his head in a fight, was still keeping his concentration on wining, not just fending or delivering punches as his opponent was doing.

 They had both stepped away from each other after the latest series of blows, circling like two wolves battling for their position in the pack. Chris was breathing harder while Vin, who was tired was managing to hide it better. Thanks to the Arena, Vin thought with anger and disgust, Chris was accustomed to quick kills. If he were himself, he would have been able to hand Vin's head to him in a platter if Chris got it in his mind to do it. However, this was not Chris Larabee Vin was fighting but rather a facsimile borne out of the drugs he had been forced to ingest into his system.

 "Vin!" Alex's voice rang in his ear and he turned around to see Alex emerged from the room he passed by earlier.

The momentary distraction was all Chris needed and he ploughed into Vin, dropping them both onto the floor. Vin felt the gunslingers' weight straddling him and pummelling him with blows. In his position of weakness, the effect was almost devastating as Vin felt fist connecting with his face repeatedly, feeling the grains of teeth in his mouth as it shattered, tasting blood on his tongue and the heat on his face as flesh began to swell. He could hear Alex screaming out in fear and focussed enough through the pain to see her trying to pull Chris off him.  

Chris stopped hitting Vin at that point as the tracker reeled from pain and from the series of blows he had been subjected to. Chris shrugged Alex off him as she was nothing and he turned to her, as if he had forgotten all about Vin as he sighted a new prey.

"Hello Alex." Chris said with a smile that immediately told Alex that she was in a lot of trouble.

"Chris, let us help you." She implored as he started closing in on her, the gleam in his eyes was nothing less than predatory. "You're very sick."

"I'm sick of people saying that to me." He replied and swung at her with a backhanded blow.

Alex hit the floor almost straight away, feeling the salt of blood in her mouth and started to crawl away when she looked up and saw Chris not advancing upon her. Her eyes widened when she saw why he had not come after.

Vin was standing behind him, with the sawn off Winchester aimed directly at the back of Chris' skull.

"You touch my wife again and I'll blow your head off, friend or not."

"You don't have the balls for that." Chris sneered.

"Maybe not," Alex suddenly came up along side of him. "But we'll never know." Without warning, she plunged a small syringe she had discreetly hidden on her person deep into his arm and pumped its fluids straight into Chris' vein.

Chris' eyes widened in rage as he realise what she had done as she retreated quickly. "No!" He snarled angrily and lunged at Alex.

 The doctor quickly withdrew to a safe distance away from him, in anticipation of the reaction she would receive upon his realising what she had done. When she had seen Vin and Chris fighting, Alex had quickly searched through the potions and drugs the lady had on stock, hoping that there was something there Alex could use to end the fight in a more peaceable manner. Fortunately, she discovered a heavy morphine based sedative and hoped that it would not react too adversely with whatever Chris was already drugged with.

Chris managed no more than one or two steps before the effect of the drug started to hit. The gunslinger paused as the disorientation began to seep in and no long after Vin could see Chris struggling to remain on his feet. The tracker sheathed his Winchester back into its holster, breathing hard as the sedation made him drowsier and drowsier.

"What did you do to me?" He growled angrily as he dropped to his knees, no longer able to stand.

"It will be alright Chris," Alex assured him. "We're going to help you!"

"Now you want to help me!" Chris barked as his pupils started to dilate and he had difficulty breathing. He turned his gaze on Vin as his mind started to cloud over and he tried desperately to remain lucid. Unfortunately, it was the one battle he could not lose and he felt himself succumbing to the darkness. The knowledge of his eventual defeat gave him a renewed sense of anger and he glared at Vin. "You want to help me?" He hissed angrily as the fight started to drain out of his face. "You were supposed to watch my back! Where were you when I needed you? You were supposed to come! I waited and waited and you didn't show! Not one of you!"

Vin blinked, feeling the words sink into him like a knife. As he saw Chris lose his battle to stay conscious, finally tumbling to the floor in a heap, Vin took a deep breath and steadied himself before he strode over to Alex, who was allowing herself a sigh of relief.

"Alex are you okay?" He asked, embracing her quickly because he sorely needed one right now and took note of the ugly bruise that was forming against her skin. Not that he was in any better shape himself. He knew that he had broken one of his back teeth and he sorely wanted a drink to wash away the taste of blood in his mouth.

"Yes," she nodded and pushed away, her eyes darting about nervously because she did not want to be trapped in this place after what she had seen already. "We must get him out of here now. I have no idea how long that morphine is going to keep him knocked out. The drug that's already in his system is running his metabolism like a locomotive, we've got to find some other way to restrain him."

 Vin nodded in understanding and moved towards Chris. Alex looked down the hall cautiously to see if anyone was coming as Vin pulled Chris' arm around his shoulder and proceeded to go down the hall the way he came. As Alex fell into stride with him, she turned to her husband and saw the impact of Chris' accusation in his eyes.

"Vin," Alex said softly. "What Chris said, it was the drug talking. He's half insane from what she has done to him. I'm sure that's not how he feels."

 Vin did not answer because the truth was, he was very certain that was exactly how Chris had felt.

* * *

Zhang was starting to get anxious by the rather absence of the lady he served after a considerable length of time had passed and there was still no sign of Laurel Chase returning with her guest. Of course, that period of waiting was not made any less tolerable by the attempt of the man he had been left to keep watch upon, challenging him to play a game of cards at two minute intervals. He was starting to understand why the lovely doctor kept the man around for his hidden talents since the most obvious ones were rather annoying.

 "I was given the impression that yours is a rest that enjoys the games of chance. Why I had chance to journey through a railway camp where a number of your countrymen were laying the foundation for that, great transport enterprise and found that they were most receptive to games of chance. They even taught me a few things."

 "I do not gamble." Zhang retorted firmly wishing to put an end to the matter.

 "But this entire establishment gains its revenue from that particular human vice." Ezra pointed out, continuing this discussion in order to distract the man from his concerns regarding Laurel Chase's prolonged absence. Ezra was certain that something was going on and it was in everyone's best interest particularly in light of what they were attempting to accomplish in this place if Mr Zhang remained seated.

 "That is my lady's concern," Zhang said hotly, seriously deciding whether or not it would be such a terrible sin that if he were to break every bone in this upstart's smirking face. However, he decided that the more sensible course would be to simply leave. He doubted this creature could cause any mischief while he went to investigate where his lady was this point.

 Ezra saw him starting to move and decided he was out of time. Without blinking, the derringer tucked safely under his sleeve made its emergence, the click of its mechanism drowning out in the sound of the crowd's roar.

 "Move Sir and I would be most gratified to see if your thick bulk is capable of keeping this tiny bullet from cleaving your heart in two when I pull the trigger."

 Mr Zhang's eyes clouded over with murderous anger and Ezra did not wish to be on the receiving end of his considerable rage and gestured the man to remove the gun belt around his barrel thick waist. Reluctantly, the Oriental unbuckled the belt and his weapons dropped to the floor. Ezra took a deep breath and knew it was time to depart, deciding that if Vin and Alex had not emerged together than a new plan was required. However, the fact that Laurel had not yet returned and Mr Zhang was so concerned, led Ezra to the conclusion that both had run into each other.  

"No doubt you have noticed the absence of Miss Chase," Ezra said smoothly, displaying his most hardened poker face before this man who would see straight through it if he was anything less than convincing. He saw Zhang reacting to that statement and the man wanted to act so badly that Ezra knew if he managed to escape the Oriental's clutches he could consider himself extremely favored. "If I do not emerge from this place in the five minutes," Ezra continued. "My companions who are scattered all around this charming community of yours and who by now have the lovely Miss Chase in their company, will see to it that she is returned to you in tiny pieces."

 Zhang made a stepped toward him and Ezra cocked the gun, proving that he would not hesitate to fire if provoked into it. " Do not underestimate the determination of those with me to see to it that their demands are met. If I am not outside, they will kill her."

 Ezra had been correct in assuming that Zhang's devotion to the lady was too strong to keep him from consciously placing her life in danger because a few seconds passed in silence between the two men, despite the noise that roared around them, the oriental took a step backwards. Ezra let out an inward sigh of relief and met the men's gaze with a little smile.

 "You have made a wise decision." He replied and withdrew slowly out of the box, beyond the notice of the audience who was too interested in the carnage taking place. As soon as Ezra put enough distance between himself and the huge man, he looked over his shoulder and saw Zhang running into the private entrance into the box, which he and Laurel had used to make their appearance. No doubt, he was rushing to find out of if what Ezra had claimed was true.

For Alex and Vin's sake, Ezra hoped he was right.

* * *

JD was getting anxious.

The youth sat perched on top of the carriage they had stolen from the travellers who were journeying to Sparta , feelings tendrils of concern snake up his spine each time he heard a sound and realised it was not any of the seven or Alex that was approaching. So far, his presence had gone largely noticed as he remained in position, hidden in the dark alley that overlooked the main part of the Arena. The horses had settled in for the wait, which was just as well for when things finally rolled into motion, they would be pushed to the limit in order for the seven to make good their escape.

During his wait he had seen the rich idle up and down their streets, drunk and full of carefree enjoyment as they went to indulge as many vices as was humanly possible. JD felt an immediate dislike for all of them because he had seen their type too many times before in his young life. He remembered at the boarding school where his ma had worked and he had received his education. The students had been just like these people, accustomed to a life of privilege where everything was provided for them and scornful of those who did not have the same freedom.

The people who came to Sparta to satiate their desires and their tastes had no idea what their hungry indolence usually came at a price for those who had to provide the service. He still had trouble believing Ezra had seen what he had confessed to in the Arena because a part of JD Dunne refused to admit that Chris Larabee could succumb, no matter how overwhelming the forces. Even though that he had seen enough during his years in the West to be a far cry from the youth that stepped of that stage when Chris and Vin had gone to save Nathan, he still indulged in a little hero worship when it came to Chris Larabee.

 Even when Chris had been trapped in that hellish prison as Inmate 78, he had managed to hold his own and remain very much the man JD respected immensely. What could have happen to him in the last week that could turn him into a murderer who had no sense of anything, not even his wife. JD felt his anger rise more potently when he remembered that poor Mary was at this moment, recovering what was supposedly by all accounts, a terrible ordeal delivering hers and Chris' child. It was beyond JD's understanding how all that could simply be forgotten by Chris in a week.

He had no time to debate the matter because suddenly, he saw movement at the corner of his eyes that did not match that of the tourists in Sparta . He saw three figures emerging from the darkness into the main square before the Arena, capturing startled expressions from passers by as they work their way towards the alley. Needing no incentive than that, JD grabbed the reins and snapped them hard, breaking the horses out of their inactivity and sending the animals into a running start. JD directed the horses towards Vin Tanner who was carrying an unconscious Chris Larabee, with Alex looking about nervously. 

JD pulled the horses to a halt as near to them as he could manage and then noticed that Ezra Standish had made his sudden exit from the main doors that led from the innards of the Arena. The gambler immediately caught sight of JD and the others, assessing the situation in the split second that it took for the image to imprint upon his mind before he broke into a run towards them.

"Is he alright?" JD asked preparing to dismount as Alex pulled open the door of the carriage so Vin could put the gunslinger inside its compartment.

"He's out like a light," Vin answered. "Stay up there. We're getting out of here right now." The tracker ordered as he and Alex deposited Chris inside the carriage, just as Ezra reached them.

"I think that would be an exceedingly good idea," Ezra remarked, looking over his shoulder to see anyone was following. At the moment, he could see no evidence of pursuit but bet his entire fortune, what there was of it, that the situation would change the minute Mr Zhang found out that Laurel was not kidnapped as he had claimed. "I may have alluded to Mr Zhang that we have Miss Chase in our custody to make my retreat."

"Don't matter," Vin gestured for Ezra to get into the carriage. "We got what we came for."

"The question remains whether we can leave with it." Ezra retorted as he climbed into the compartment.

"If everything goes to plan, I'm guessing it will." Vin remarked and then looked up at JD. "Get us out of here JD." He ordered.

"On our way!" JD replied as he saw Vin disappear inside the carriage and yelled at the horses to get moving just as he saw the huge oriental man appear at the doors to the arena with a group of armed man. That was all the sight he allowed himself before returning his attention back to the horses and snapping the reins harder, until they were galloping hard away from the arena.

The stage coach thundered down the streets at a rapid speed, chasing people who were crossing frantically to the other side in order to keep from being run over. JD glanced over his shoulder and saw no one in pursuit yet, even though he expected this would change soon enough. The stage rumbled through the centre of town quickly, passing the hotels, restaurants, shops and cat houses in its attempt to make a speedy departure from Sparta City.

When the stage cleared the last building and was turning its way down the meandering track that would take them through the pass that led out of the high canyon walls, JD took his hat off and waved it, offering a signal to Buck Wilmington. Buck had been waiting just as he had in the shadows to unleash the little surprise they had in store for the patrons of Sparta , not to mention Miss Chase when they finally made their escape. As he cleared the last building, Josiah and Nathan appeared out of the same darkness on horse back, providing escort to the carriage as it continued onward.

Buck watched JD and the stage roll past him and immediately push down the detonator handle that would ignite all the explosives that they had brought with them for the purpose. When Vin had sent Josiah and Nathan from Four Corners, he had instructed that they bring an adequate sample of dynamite with them to use when they made their escape. Buck did not wait to see if the fruits of his labour would go off as planned, confident that everything would progress as planned. Hurrying to the horse that he had waiting for him, he was about to mount the animal when the explosions began tearing through town.

Buck had to settle the horse down as it reared up on its hind legs from the sudden sound before he could get into the saddle. After a few seconds, Buck was in the saddle, looking over his shoulder long enough to see the sky filled with amber light as the fires broke out in several places across the town and the sound of screaming and shouting filled the air. He had tried to place the explosives in positions that would cause little harm in terms of a body count but it was not completely possible. However, Buck was able to take consolation in the realisation that this entire place was a monument to sin not to mention, that these people were feeding an industry that inspired violence.

Digging his heels into his horse Beavis' side, the animal broke into a running gallop and Buck thought no more about Sparta as he rode after the stage, hoping that the chaos they had created would allow them the margin of time needed to escape.

* * *

The stage made it to the pass unaccosted but just to be certain they would not be followed, Buck had also placed explosives there as well. He ensured that when Laurel's men came after them, they would arrive at this point and be confronted with a wall of rock that would require days of digging to get through. Once they had completed that final piece of insurance, the lawmen from Four Corners wasted no time in returning to their campsite where they gathered the last of their horses and discarded the stolen carriage.

Within the hour, they were riding back to Four Corners.

Deciding they needed to rest some ways into the journey, Vin led them to a small backwater town that was not known to many but he had come across in his bounty hunting days so that they could freshen the horses and get some meal. Besides, Alex felt that it was necessary to make a quick examination of Chris as well as appraised the others of what she had learnt from Laurel regarding the nature of the addiction he was now suffering.

"We can't bring him home to Mary like this." Alex stated first and foremost.

"Mary will have to be told," Buck said automatically. "She'll want to see him."

"That's a real bad idea right now." Vin retorted as they sat around the fire. Chris was presently in the bedroom tied up even in his sedation and Alex had made certain that he had been given another dosage to keep him subdued. After what she had seen earlier, she was not about to take the chance of his gaining consciousness before they returned to Four Corner. "He barely knew us and didn't seem to know her either."

"We can't keep her from him." Buck argued, knowing how much Mary had missed Chris and how his disappearance had effected the premature birth of their child. "The woman just had a baby, she's going to want to let it see its father."

"Buck you don't know what he was like," Vin replied, having no wish to tell them the details of his confrontation but neither could they allow Chris anywhere near Mary at this point, not in his present state of mind. "He was ready to kill me and you saw what he did to Alex."The doctor frowned at her husband, not wishing to call attention to the ugly bruise that was on her face. Instinctively, she let a lock of hand fall over the swollen flesh in an effort to hide it. "It's not his fault." She replied. "She told me what she had done to him."

"What exactly is that?" JD asked, since they had only known that it was some kind of a drug, not much more.

Alex reached into her dress and produced the vial of white powder, holding it up for them to see. "Look, whatever she may be, the woman is a certifiable genius."

"A genius?" JD baulked. "You called her a genius for turning Chris to a monster?" The youth said impetuously.

"Let her talk," Nathan hushed JD into silence because he was just as interested as the others as to the contents of that tube of white.  

"What's she has done is years ahead of everyone in biochemical research. Buck," she looked at the tall man. "I mean I've heard of research papers and theoretical data that talks about what she's done but nobody has actually attempted anything like what's she's accomplished."

"What she has accomplished is turned a good man into a monster." Josiah pointed out. Even though he tried to reserve judgement on most evils committed by men and women for that matter, Josiah found something inordinately offensive about what was done to Chris Larabee. To twist a man inside so he did not friend or family and was degraded in a murdering savage was beyond thinkable. It was just plain evil.  

"I agree," Alex spoke up. "But to the understand the problem, you must understand the work she has done. She has created something that accelerates hormone growth in human beings. Hormones regulate everything about us and when you give this to a person, specifically a man, it accelerates the production of testosterone. Everything masculine about you owes its thanks to testosterone. An overabundance of it will make all those instincts strengthen. Chris became what he did in the Arena because he did not have a choice, his testosterone levels was so elevated he probably couldn't even say straight. At the moment, he'll kill anyone of us because the drug has made it impossible to control the urge to fight. He knows us on some level but not enough to break the conditioning of the drug."

The group went silent as they mused over Alex's words and suddenly rescuing Chris did not seem to be the end of their troubles. On the contrary, it seemed like it had only been the first step in a long and arduous process.

"So what do we do to help him?" JD asked first.

Alex and Nathan met each other's gaze and both knew the answer to that even if they did not like to embark upon that course of action. As the other looked at the two healers in question it was Nathan who finally spoke.

"If it is a drug then it's probably an addiction by now." He explained.

"She didn't say how she was giving it to him," Alex remarked, remembering her conversation with Laurel Chase and felt her skin crawl just thinking about the woman. "But I didn't see any needle marks on him when I was examining him, except for the ones I put there when we had to knock him out. I'd say that it was probably in his food. I don't see Chris voluntarily taking it and we all know that anyone who tried coming at him with a needle was going to regret it."

Everyone was in agreement with that statement and the revelation that Chris might have been fed his poison by his meal drew a universal groan of disgust from everyone present. "So he didn't even know that this was happening to him." JD said aghast.

"No," Vin shook his head. "The room they had him in was like a cage, there were no windows, no way to tell whether it was sun up or sun down."

"That was probably intentional." Alex looked at her husband and offered. "She looks to me like someone who plays mind games."

"Jesus." Buck swore under his breath.

"The question still remains however," Ezra spoke up. "What do we do with Mr Larabee once we return to Four Corners? We certainly cannot return him home in his present state."

"Cold turkey." Nathan looked and Alex.

"Yeah," Alex nodded in agreement. "Cold turkey."

"Oh hell," Nathan swore and immediately made everyone not only puzzled but also rather concerned about the reluctance in his manner to embark upon that as a form of treatment.

"Well he's only been on it ten days," Alex sighed. "It may not take as much time as a full blown addiction."

 "I don't understand," Vin looked at her. "What's cold turkey?"

 "I recognise the term." Josiah said after a moment. "You keep him from getting his hands on the stuff. The withdrawal symptoms will start to appear almost as soon as he wakes up and it will feel like we're riding a tornado but there's no other way around it. We've got to keep him away from the stuff until he doesn't need it no more. He's gonna be violent and ready to kill us to get some, so there's no way in hell he can go home. The jailhouse might be an idea."

"The jailhouse?" Buck exclaimed. "You mean lock him up?"

"It will be dangerous if we don't," Nathan explained. "You ain't got no idea how bad this is going to be. He'll want it so bad he'll be ready to kill all of us to get his fix. I've seen men sell their family just to get that craving satisfied. Putting him in the jailhouse will keep him from killing us and maybe himself."

"We can't let her get away with this!" JD said angrily. "We've got to pay her back for doing this to Chris."

"She's already gotten away with it," Vin replied sharply. The tracker's eyes went dark with rage and as Alex glanced at her husband, she had a feeling that Laurel Chase had made a mortal enemy in Vin Tanner and, Alex could not blame him for wanting to tear the woman apart. While Alex admired the mind that allowed her to create Ambrosia, Alex could not forget that the woman had used her considerable intellect to murder and to turn a friend into savages. "Right now, we got to mend our wounds and that means helping Chris. We can go after her later."

"Vin there is one other thing," Alex found herself reluctantly admitting, considering how incendiary her words could be to them when feelings were so heated all around. However, the issue had to be brought up because wholesale murder was being committed by this woman and would continue as long as Ambrosia was being manufactures. "She told me how she makes it."

Vin turned to Alex. "I thought it was the opium that the Chinese like to smoke?"

"No," Alex shook her head slowly. "Males produce testosterone naturally. To make a human being produce more testosterone than normal, you have to find the catalyst that begins production. That cannot be manufactured. It has to be something that is produced naturally."

"Oh my god." Nathan started to exclaim. "Are you telling me that she's been killing people to make this stuff?" Similar expressions of horror started to sweep across the room.

"It's the only way she can do it. She has to take the enzyme, whatever it is, from a human body." Alex confirmed their suspicions. She looked at Vin and said with a heavy sigh. "She has to be stopped Vin," Alex implored. "Not right now, but she has to be stopped."

"You ain't got to worry about that." Vin said with a glint in his eyes that made everyone in the room shudder a little. "When the times comes, I'll see to that personally. 

 


	8. Coming Home

 

Four Corner lay less than a day away when Alex decided she could no longer continue keeping Chris trapped in the limbo of sedation for fear of harming him permanently. Bound tightly and kept under close surveillance the moment Alex had delivered her last dosage of morphine, the rest of the seven waited and watched for their leader's awareness to return with a mixture of dread and concern. Vin took first watch naturally, allowing Peso to be led behind the wagon they had procured to transport Chris back to town. Alex sat the head of the vehicle, escorted by Ezra and Nathan as they traveled across the flat landscape towards home.

Despite having recovered Chris, there was no sense of victory to what they had done. Vin felt it worst of all because he alone had seen Chris in the seconds before Alex had drugged him unconscious. He felt grateful that they had been spared that vision and yet he knew that it was only a momentary delay because when he woke, Vin would be able to hide nothing from them. Of course, the others suspected already what he had seen. They only had to look at Alex's bruised cheek, at his swollen eyes, split lip and noticed that he flinched whenever he imbibed any kind of fluid because it stung at the exposed nerves wrought by a shattered tooth. 

There was a line of tension running through all of them as they waited for Chris to regain consciousness. Even though their leader was among them, none of the seven felt they were whole. Alex, who was the outsider, noticed the gray pall that had fallen over the men she loved and the man she was in love with the apprehension of just what would happen when Chris opened his eyes. She doubted she would ever forget the look in his eyes when he had struck her. As for the men who rode with Chris, who were accustomed to him fighting for their lives by the sheer will of his presence, seeing him in such a manic state would be akin to being knifed in the heart. 

Vin watched Chris sleeping and wondered what hell had he endured to unleash the darkness within him. Riding with Chris, one could not be unaware that the man had something of a dark side. It was more than just his black clothes but you could see it lining his face but the nature of Chris had always kept the darkness submerged and Chris was just strong enough to use to his advantage. Now all those restraints had been broken chains of irons snapped like kindling. All that rage and anger spewing forth in a torrent of despair and betrayal because Vin had not reached him in time to stop him.

Vin knew he shouldn't feel guilty but he did.  

He should have known and Chris who obviously had been through something unimaginable had sought someone to blame in his agony. Vin could accept that because Chris was his friend and if he needed someone to hate, Vin could be that for him too. Vin remembered one night some years ago, not very long after the seven had first come together, he had been sitting inside the saloon with Buck Wilmington in the small hours of the night, more than well on their way to being blind stinking drunk when Vin had actually been loose tongue enough to ask Buck how Chris had managed to survive his grief. It was a valid question after all, almost three years after the gunslinger was nowhere near to accepting the death of his family to make one wonder what he must have been like when that pain was fresh and raw.

Buck who just as drunk as Vin at the time had finally deigned to answer. "Easy enough if you can stand the sacrifice," Buck revealed with a little smile filled with such profound sorrow, far removed from his normally easy going self. "You make him hate you. You make him so mad that he's ready to kill you and just maybe, it might take his mind off things long enough for him to forget that eating a bullet ain't the way to get Sarah and little Adam back."

Vin had merely stared at him and understood then the price. Buck and Chris were never close friends again, not the way they were before the fire. Buck had saved Chris but in saving him, it had destroyed their friendship forever. While they still shared fragments of it now, it was nothing like what it had been and now Vin found himself faced with the same situation that Buck Wilmington had faced when he realised that to save Chris Larabee, he had to make Chris hate him.

Even if it meant losing his best friend in the world.

"What the hell's going on?" A low voiced growled at Vin and snapped the tracker out of his thoughts as he raised his eyes just enough to meet Chris' intense glare.

The gunslinger was lying on his side, arms bound behind his back and legs tied together around his ankles, trussed by like a calf at ranch and while the others had protested about tying Chris Larabee up in this manner, Vin would have it no other way. Only Ezra had stood by his decision and Vin had guessed this was largely due to what Ezra had seen inside the Arena that convinced him that Chris was far too dangerous to them to be let loose.

"Hey there pard." Vin said easily, cradling his Winchester in his arms.

"Nice to know that you ain't forgetting we're friends." Chris hissed. "Man wake up this way might think otherwise."

"Its for your own good." The tracker replied without any hint of concern in his voice.

"You know it," the gunslinger shot back. "I wouldn't mind seeing your stuff again. Looks like things were getting interesting until Alex stuck her nose into our business."

Vin did not glance at Alex who looked over her shoulder and then quickly faced front once she saw that Chris had woken. Her back tensed with concern but she said nothing because she did not want to get locked into the verbal duel taking place between her husband and his best friend. She had already learnt her lesson of how much of a liability to Vin she could be by walking in at the wrong time, as it had been proved when she inadvertently stumbled into their fight during the rescue. Her appearance had cost Vin his advantage and Alex was not about to repeat her mistake again.

"I don't need to fight you Chris," Vin drawled, taking on the appearance who man who was anything but on his guard. "I'm just taking you home."

"I was home." Chris retorted. "Four Corners means nothing to me."

"Then why are you still wearing your wedding ring?" Vin looked up and met his gaze pointedly.

Chris' expression faltered for a moment as if the question had taken him by surprise for Vin saw his brown furrow with uncertainty. He went quiet as he considered what to say and Vin was hardly surprised when the response he received from Chris was weak and stilted.

"I don't care about the ring," he finally replied. "If my hands were tied around my back, the first thing I'd do is throw the damn thing away." Chris paused enough to let a sneer cross over his face and then added. "Sorry the second thing I'd do."

"Got a taste for it haven't you?" Vin went back to looking at the landscape they were passing through on their way home. Around him, he could see the other members of the seven keeping their distance so that he could deal with Chris alone. In truth, he did not think anyone wanted to see Chris the way Vin had.

"What?" Chris asked pulling at the ropes around his limbs and finding that the tracker had done a spectacular job of tying the knots because he could not even get them to listen. However, the state of mind he was in was still raging with hostility so he could not think his way out of the situation which was normally how Chris would extricate himself in similar circumstances.

"The killing."

"I ain't no murderer," Chris shot back and little sharper than he should. "A man who can't fight shouldn't step in the ring."

"We ain't in a ring Chris," Vin reminded. "But you still want a piece of me."

"I want a piece of you because you got me tied up like an animal!" Chris' temper got the better of him and he erupted a litany of curses as he tried hard to free himself form his bonds. "Let me go!" He started to struggle harder until the ropes were rubbing raw into his skin and would tear his flesh from the sheer force of his tantrum.

Alex glanced over her shoulder anxiously, trying to discern what was happening when she saw Vin shake his head slightly, an unspoken order not to interfere. She faced front again, fighting the doctor's instincts that wanted to stop Chris from hurting himself. The others looked similarly disturbed. Buck kept looking this way as he sat astride Beavis, trying not to intervene and told himself repeatedly that this was the only way. JD had rode further out even though he kept the wagon in his sights but the younger man could not face seeing his idol in such a way. Aware of just how much hero worship JD had for Chris Larabee, Josiah had rode to join him and was no doubt offering words of comfort as Chris raged on in the back of the wagon. Meanwhile, Ezra and Nathan kept each other company, trying to remain just as impassive as the tracker but finding they could not, even if both had learn in their own way about detachment.

However, Vin was not about to release the ropes around the gunslinger under any circumstances and decided to act in order to keep a small problem from snow balling into a large one. Without saying a word, he suddenly shoved his boot against Chris' chest, aware that the stuff in the man' s veins would have allowed him to barely feel it. Nevertheless, the boot pressed into his sternum and shoved Chris back against the side of the wagon. The gunslinger prepared to react before he heard the audible click of the Winchester Vin had been carrying aimed directly at him.

"Who's kidding who?" Chris croaked, his voice hoarse from his ravings earlier on. "You ain't got the balls to pull the trigger."

"Don't count on it." Vin said simply, still wearing that nonchalant expression on his face.

"You won't kill me," Chris laughed, derision in every word. "I'm your friend. You know, the one you came all the way from Four Corners to save. You gonna save me by pulling the trigger on me Vin?" He challenged.

"Chris," Vin leaned forward just a little hint of a smile on his face. "How long have you known me?"

"Long enough to know that you won't kill me." Chris returned confidently.

"I don't got to kill you Chris," the tracker replied. "I just need to wound you enough so that you shut up and quit fussing for awhile. A blown kneecap might sting some but at least I can untie your legs so you don't give me any more trouble. What do you think?"

"You wouldn't dare." Chris glared at him and was faced with an expression of sharp intensity that could match his pound for pound in determination.

"Try me, pard." Vin answered. "You see I'm just about willing to do anything to get that shit out of your veins and if it mean laying you up for six weeks so you can't go running back to that whore for more of what she put into you, so be it. I'm game."

"What shit?" Chris snorted. "What are you talking about?"

For the first time, Vin's impassioned mask faltered long enough for him to be stunned. He looked over his shoulder long enough to catch Alex's eyes and could see the same shock filtering into her face that he was now feeling around his heart like a clenched fist. All this time, they had assumed that Chris had some idea of what was happening to him. He had to know, after all no drug could change a person so radically from what he was to some unrecognisable monster without giving him some idea of how it had happened.

"You don't know do you?" Vin looked at him.

"Know what?" Chris asked, not really caring and not about to allow Vin to injure him with a wound that would render him incapable of escaping later on. For the moment, he had decided to sit still and play Vin's mind games. He was getting used to them by now.

"That she's been drugging you."

Chris looked up slowly at the tracker, recoiling inwardly at the thought, not to mention the absurdity of it. "I ain't no opium addict!" He barked, more than just a little defensive for some inexplicable reason. "She made me stronger and better. She promised she would if I just let go and be myself!"

"She made you forget everything that you are!" Vin roared, feeling his own anger emerge not at Chris but at Laurel who had done this to him. "You have been turned inside out because of her! You think its because you love her! It ain't that all! She pumped you so full of drugs you can't even remember why you're mad or want to hurt someone, just that you do!"

"You left me!" Chris shouted back. The words spouted by the tracker starting to penetrate a little and he had to say something. It escaped out of him almost without any conscious effort, a string of words that had been clawing release. "I waited and waited for you to come and you didn't! You were supposed to watch my back but you weren't there were you! None of you were! Did you know what it was like! Locked up that cage! I had to get out and the only one who came for me was her!"

"BECAUSE SHE PUT YOU IN THERE IN THE FIRST PLACE!" Vin screamed back at him.

His words rang through the air and bird took flight at the sharpness of his rage echoing through the flat plains. Those who were within distance of hearing paused and looked as Vin swallowed thickly, breathing hard, feeling frustration and outrage building up inside of him as he found himself as he faced that wall of guilt Chris has used to hurt him. And it had hurt  _a lot_. More than he had ever thought possible.

"She kidnapped you," Vin continued. "She stole you out of your goddamn room, the night before you were gonna go home to your wife and your  _son_  it now seems. You hear that Chris? Your son!"

 Chris' eyes were closed, trying to shut out his words because there was some fragment inside of him that was starting to remember. His son, not Adam, not Billy but his child, the one who had no name. The one that was still slumbering in his mother's womb. In Mary's womb.

_God, Mary._

"NO!!!!!" Chris screamed. "Shut up! Shut up!"

Vin desisted then and blinked slowly as he saw Chris bunching up into an almost fetal position, being bombarded no doubt by memories, the further away they got from Laurel Chase and Sparta. He felt his soul groan in anguish as he saw the pain he inflicted on the gunslinger and made another silent oath that a quick death was not good enough for the woman who had done this to Chris Larabee.'

* * *

Thankfully the sun had set by the time the seven made their approach towards Four Corners. The journey had been tough enough with Chris so rabid at one point in his determination to be free of his bonds that Alex had no choice but to sedate him, despite her fears that excessive use of morphine might be inherently dangerous to him. With Four Corners becoming more than a distant sight in the horizon, they could feel the strain of the past two days ride taking its toll upon them. Yet despite their exhaustion, not only from the lengthy trip but also from the emotional difficulty in dealing with their leader, it was not simply fatigue that wore them down but rather the knowledge that their trials were far from over.

Chris had been relentless in his efforts to escape. The verbal barrage he had subjected Vin Tanner to was only the opening act in the litany of cruelties he had inflicted upon the friends who told themselves with each sharpened barb that it was just the drug talking. When Chris was not pointing out their weaknesses, he was threatening to kill them. The manic need to hurt someone was so prevalent in his eyes that he looked almost feral, like some creature that lived out in the wild, with no concept of conscience, no need for remorse, just a thirst for blood that knew no end.

He frightened them all.

At the moment however, Chris rants and ravings were silent. It was Nathan's turn to sit in the back of the wagon with Alex, keeping watch over the gunslinger who was for the moment asleep on the back tray, since Vin needed a break because the tracker seemed to be the focus of most of Chris' rage. Vin did not just need a rest physically but mentally as well. The rest of his comrades and his wife, knew how personally responsible he felt for not keeping Chris from falling into Laurel Chase's clutches. The trouble was, Chris knew it too and striking far deeper wounds with words than fists could ever manage.

Even though Chris had exhausted himself into sleep, he was far from still. Lying against the wooden floorboards of the wagon, he tossed and turned, breaking out into a sweat until his body was glistening from it. He mumbled incoherently, writhed occasionally and was plagued by demons that were trapped with him in the dreamscape. Nathan watched in a mixture of worry and fascination as Chris suffered in his sleep and knew that the dreams and the inability to become restful was just the first symptom in an ordeal that would be almost as tumultuous as the trip home. As a healer, he knew the signs and while he would have liked to have spared Chris this part of the process, just as surely as Alex must have, Nathan knew that there was no easy road ahead, no potion that could make the step disappear.

It was a voyage in pain and Chris had to take it if he was ever to be the man he was again.

"It's starting." Nathan remarked, watching Chris struggling in his sleep.

"Yes," Alex nodded, still at the reins. "It's going to get worse."

Ezra who was riding up close to the wagon while astride Chaucer had been offering the lady doctor and Nathan some company during this leg of the trip, aware that some distraction was needed while they remained so close to the heart of what was troubling them all. Vin was in the distance, riding alone and wanting some time to catch his breath following the accusations and cruelties inflicted upon him by the near demented gunslinger who wanted freedom so badly that he was willing to risk life and limb by provoking them into freeing him.

"What is going to become worse?" Ezra asked.

"Chris," Nathan answered unhappily, unable to shift his gaze away from Chris despite the knowledge that he could not help the man no matter how much his healer's instincts wanted to do so. "He's starting to feel the effects of not getting the drug."

Ezra frowned and shuddered inwardly, wondering how worse it could get considering what they had seen already. "What are we likely to face, Mr Jackson?"

"It ain't bad yet," Nathan sighed, running through the symptoms that was borne of normal chemical abuse. What Chris had been given was nothing like what had been previously encountered and the best the healer could do was offer an educated guess and little else. "But it soon will be. We're seeing the beginnings of it now."

"His metabolism is running like a locomotive," Alex took some weight of the explanation from Nathan and responded to Ezra's query. "Nathan checked his pulse a while ago and his heart race is twice perhaps three times faster. His adrenalin levels are still up and has left him in a heightened state of awareness, even his sleep. His body temperature will start climbing soon and its going to be followed by anything from acute paranoia, sweating, anxiety, cramps, vomiting and fever."

"Will he survive all that?" Ezra asked, unafraid to hide his horror at Alex's answer and looked apprehensively at Chris.

"I don't know," she shook her head. "We have no idea how much of that drug he's been given to say nothing of the fact that Ambrosia is something very new. I am hoping that because its a natural substance that is produced by the body, he won't go through a painful withdrawal but Laurel told me she made some additional elements to the formula to keep better control of the subject so I can't be sure of anything."

Suddenly their attention was torn away by a sudden groan escaping the gunslinger's lips. Alex and Nathan quickly exchanged glances and she gave the healer a silent entreaty to be careful when he approached Chris to investigate. Chris had already promised he would skin all of them alive for daring to imprison him this way. Having seen the injuries inflicted to Vin, there was not one of them who doubted Chris' words, no matter how tainted they were by the poison in his veins. Alex need not have worried about Nathan for the moment he started approaching Chris, Ezra was watching closely, poised to act in case Chris' cry of pain was another deception engineered for the purpose of escape.

"Damn!" Chris let out another cry and rolled onto his back, oblivious to the fact that his hands were crushed beneath him. All he could feel was this ache, working its way through the rest of his body, preparing to ignite into a vision of pain he still remembered now. He did not understand why it happened, only that it did and when it came upon him, it was like falling into a pit of molten lava and being eaten alive by fire. There was no controlling it.

He remembered what it felt like the last time.

"Let me go!" Chris pushed his head up, craning his neck so that he could see his captors. "I need to get free!"

"Sorry Chris," Nathan shook his head, holding his ground now that the man was coherent. "Not this time."

"Let me go, godammnit!" Chris shouted angrily. "I need to get free."

The pain was expanding like the flames of a forest fire, stretching outwards from one singular point, finding fuel to feed its hunger the more time it was allowed to breathe. He was trying not to scream, trying to fight the impending agony but he needed freedom of his limbs to withstand it and the bindings around his hands and legs prevented that. He had to be able to move to tolerate the pain but the harder he struggled against it the more immovable the ropes seemed to be or seemed to him anyway because he was nearing panic.

"You don't understand!" Chris barked at Nathan as he felt tendrils of it driving through his spine, inches away from spearing its white-hot agony into the depths of his mind. "You have to let me go! Its coming!"

"What is he referring to?" Ezra demanded, his eyes being able to see past the angry words Chris was cursing them with to glimpse the blind edge of fear that was about to trap Chris in its snare. "What appears to be coming?"

 Alex had pulled up the reins of the horse, halting the wagon in the dry, parched terrain that surrounded most of Four Corners. When she had stopped, she had brought with her the rest of the seven to investigate what was wrong, although they had some idea of it by Chris' shouts. She looked at Chris who was writhing on the floor of the wagon, fighting the ropes around his wrists and ankles, trying hard not to give into the agony wracking his body. Alex could see the beads of sweat forming against his skin, she could see the muscles taut with pain and shuddering with the collapse of imminent defeat when his resistance crumbled.

"Miss Alex," Nathan looked at her, praying that she had an answer because he had not. In his mind, there was only way to help Chris and it would mean permitting him to go through this ritual of fire because to aid him was the aid the disease.

"There's nothing we can do." Alex cried out anguished. She was just as frustrated as he was by the conclusion she had reached in regards of what to do in order to help Chris. "He has to ride this out!"

"You bitch!" Chris lashed out, having enough coherence to hear that. He turned that high powered gaze, normally so full of intelligence and intensity and aimed a warning through her soul that made her feel naked, even with the seven around her. "I'll rip your fucking heart and shove it down Vin's throat! Let go of me!" He roared again, cursing furiously before the pain began to overtake his ability to speak.

By now, Vin was riding hard towards the wagon, hearing the threats and the demand to be released coming from Chris. Alex had said it was going to be rough and until this journey had begun, he had no idea just how difficult it was going to be. It was not Chris Larabee they were trying to bring home to Four Corners, it was some demented monster that would not hesitate to kill all of them to satiate the insane craving for blood that Laurel Chase had planted in his head.

"We gotta do something!" Vin heard JD declare as he joined the others who were making a similar approach towards the halted wagon.

"We can't do anything!" Buck swore, his own nerves getting the better of him because he felt just as much for Chris as the young man at his side. "Nathan's right, Chris has got to get this stuff of him before he can get better!"

"But listen to him!" JD retorted, looking apprehensively in the direction of the wagon they were nearing. "He sound crazy!"

"Its the drug." Josiah answered, hoping to soothe the young man's fears. Personally, the preacher could not blame JD's concerns, not when he himself was quaking inside each time he heard Chris shouting and threatening to kill them all. "Its the drug that's talking. He's going through a kind of withdrawal cause he ain't getting it."

"Maybe if we find some and give him just a little...."JD started to say when Vin arrived and cut him off.

"We ain't giving him any more of that shit!" Vin said fiercely and dared both Buck and JD to say anything about his talking so harshly to JD. "We do as Alex and Nathan say, we let that fucking drug runs its course because there ain't no other way! You give him even a little bit and he won't ever kick the goddamn habit, do you understand me?" Vin stared at JD.

JD nodded, stinging inwardly as the harshness of Vin's words and just as deeply, Vin ached for speaking to him in that matter but for Chris to come through this, they had to be strong, all of them. "JD," he said in a gentler voice a moment later. "We have to let this happen to him. I don't want to hear him suffer any more than you do but Chris has to be free of this thing. As long as he has got even a little of that stuff inside of him, he'll go running back to her to get more. Its the only way we can get back the Chris Larabee we know."

Vin turned away and dug his heels into Peso, forcing the horse to move faster so that he could leave the others behind. His jaw tightened in pain as he rode forward, trying to stymie the emotions churning inside of him each time he heard another angry demand or a frantic one from one of their number, begging an answer that would allow them to put an end to Chris' agony.

"What's going on?" Vin asked as he reached Ezra. By now, Chris' voice could be heard throughout the night and the rage in each word was like the wail of a banshee, tearing through all of them with its unearthly sound.

"GET THESE FUCKING ROPES OF ME!" Chris shouted as he glared at Vin, recognising the face of his 'dear friend' and aware that he was in this predicament because Vin wanted to make him suffer.

"Sorry pard," Vin spoke with that same neutral expression that almost bordered on indifference because no one else could as he brought Peso closer to the side of the wagon so he could climb in. Alex was hugging her arms closer to her body as if it was cold even the night was warm. Nathan was watching Chris but Vin could see the tension in his jaw as he steeled himself not to be moved by Chris' demands. "The ropes stay."

"You bastard!" Chris swore because the pain was so complete he could barely think straight. He was hanging onto his senses with the barest thread and he was struggling to keep his foot hold because he did not want to succumb in front of those who was making him endure this torture. The only thing that made sense through the red haze of agony was that Vin was here and he hated the son of a bitch. His hate was like a lifeline that kept him from drowning in this fire. "You want to make me suffer! You know that you'll always be tied to me as long as I live! We ain't got a friendship! You're a pet! A fucking dog I need to kick around."

"That's so?" Vin replied, seemingly unconcerned by the taunts even though everyone around him was aghast by the razor sharp ability of those words to make a heart bleed. "I guess this dog finally gets to bite."

He could not stand it any more and it was wrenched from him, like a child being torn from his mother's arm. Ripped away with so much ease, Chris wondered what happened to the resolve that he was infamous for when he started screaming. His screamed shredded the air around him, pierced through the souls of everyone watching as he writhed in nothing less than white hot pain. The guttural scream was followed by a violent spasm of pain, until Chris' back was a neat arc across the wooden floor as he wailed.

Alex had tears in her eyes and was openly weeping, finding comfort in Nathan's arms because her husband was like a stone, watching and dying with each howl of pain from the first person to ever mean so much to him in his adult life. Before Chris Larabee, there had been nothing, just the inordinate loneliness left behind by his mother's passing. Chris brought with him all the others and then he brought Alex too and for that there was nothing Vin would not suffer for him.

Even this.

"Mr Tanner..." Ezra started to say, in part to defend something about what Chris had said and also to perhaps consider that this brutal cure was not the answer.

"Don't." Vin said shortly, not wanting to hear.

"VIN!" Chris shouted again, mindless with agony. "Help me Vin! Goddamn you! Help me! Help me! I need to you to help me please!" His screams decayed into whimpers of agony. "Please Vin, please help me!"

"Christ." Ezra whispered, thanking the heavens above that it was not his name that was being used because he could not imagine that he would have the same resolve as the tracker.

"Leave him." Vin replied.

"Leave him?" Alex looked at him.

"Don't argue with me on this Alex," Vin turned on her with a voice he seldom used on anyone, least of all her. "We're setting up camp right here." He declared. "We can't go into town like this. You said we had to ride this out, we're doing that."

"Alright," Alex nodded, swallowing thickly because she was not about to incur the wrath that was seething inside those blue eyes, not when she knew better than anyone else, just how much sorrow he was enduring in silence.

"VIN!" Chris continued to scream. "Help me!"

* * *

It went on for most of the night until Chris finally stopped from sheer exhaustion. The effect of his ravings on those around him was profound and yet they could nothing but continue their vigil over their comrade, reminding themselves that this was just an affliction, perhaps not as bad a being shot but no less as devastating in its effects. For much of the night, Vin Tanner sat alone wishing comfort or company from no one, not even his wife. Although it hurt Alex, she allowed him his privacy, aware of what sorrows he suffered listening to Chris.

When dawn arrived, the group decided it was finally time to return to Four Corners before the town was fully roused In truth, it would raise too many uncomfortable questions and Vin did not want that. The plan was to get Chris into the jailhouse before anyone in town saw him and keep the gunman locked up inside a jail cell for as long as it took his system to be drained of the vile substance that had turned him against everything he knew. Vin's biggest dilemma at the moment still remained Mary. He knew she ought to be told about Chris but somehow, he did not relish what she would find when she came to see her husband. If Chris had been cruel to them, Vin did not wish to imagine what he would say to Mary. The woman had just bore his child and had been through enough without having to endure being on the receiving end of his fury.

As the wagon rode through the centre of town, the decision about Mary had yet to be reached and Vin pushed Peso up along side Josiah's horse, needing some counseling because despite his determination to be strong for all of them, he did not have all the answers.

He was not Chris Larabee.

"Josiah," Vin announced himself next to the older man even though Josiah had noticed his approach.

"Vin." Josiah said gently, feeling a wave of sympathy as he met those blue eyes and realised that they had aged a lifetime since this had all began.

"I ain't sure what we're going to tell Mary." Vin confessed, feeling vulnerable and scolding himself inwardly because this was the worst time for him to be less than sure of himself. He had to hold the family together. "We can't let her see him, not the way he is."

"I agree." Josiah replied firmly, deciding Vin needed no answers wrapped in enigma, not now. "However, I do believe she ought to know as much of the truth as we can allow her to know."

"I ain't telling her about Chris and the bitch." Vin said with uncharacteristic vehemence lately reserved only when discussing Laurel Chase in any shape or form. "Like everything else, it ain't his fault. If he gets through this, he's gonna feel bad enough with having the burden of Mary knowing about it too."

Josiah tended to agree with that statement and had no doubt that the others would agree with Vin's decision as well. After how much pain Mary had endured to bring little Michael Larabee into the world, it would have been intensely cruel to learn what her husband had been doing while she was suffering through the pain of labour. Besides, after what Chris had endured the night before, he had paid his dues in agony as well.

They arrived at the jailhouse and Four Corners was still wrapped in the smoky cool of morning, with a hint of mist meandering through the streets as the riders rumbled into town. The sun was not quite up yet but its amber light could be seen peeking through the horizon for anyone up this early in the morning . Fortunately, there was no one on the boardwalks or on in sight as the wagon came to a halt outside the jailhouse before Buck and Nathan quickly spirited Chris inside its confines before anyone else appeared on the street and paid too much notice to the prisoner being taken inside.

Vin helped Alex off Peso and noted the concern in her eyes as she met his gaze. He felt guilty for shutting her out at a time like this but he if he started admitting how he truly felt about what they were doing, it would open a deluge inside him that would make Vin good to nobody.

"You go home and get some rest." He instructed kissing her forehead in a conciliatory gesture after speaking so harshly to her, not to mention keeping his distance. She understood of course, Alex always seemed to without his needing to explain himself, still Vin felt it necessary to do nonetheless.

"What about you?" Alex asked, still worried about him despite his attempts to allay her concerns.

"I'll be fine." Vin replied and then spoke to the others with him. "I'll take first watch." He volunteered. "The rest of you go home and get some sleep. God knows you didn't get any last night."

"Vin," Nathan spoke up, not about to disagree with Vin's notion that they should all be getting some rest but the fact of the matter was Vin had slept no more than they did and he appeared to be the one who needed it most. "You're just as tired as we are."

"I'm fine." Vin said abruptly. "Get going. I want someone to take over in a couple of hours. The more you stand here and keep jawing about it, the longer a stretch its going to be."

Although they did not like leaving the tracker alone, the others had to concede his point and knew that Vin would not leave unless it was at gunpoint. Slowly, the group began to disband, heading for the places they called home, with only Alex remaining behind. She waited until they were alone and Vin was starting through the door of the jailhouse when she took a private moment with her husband.

"Vin," Alex said softly as he closed the door behind her and waited for her to speak. She could see the weariness lining his face, not to mention the profound sadness at what his best friend had been reduced to in this last week. Alex only spoke his name and then she wrapped her arms around him and embraced him tight because he needed it and for no other reason.

She felt him stiffen as if he wanted to push her away but when Alex rested his head against his shoulder and pressed her warmth against his body, he melted into her and allowed himself to be comforted.

"Thank you darling," he whispered quietly.

"I love you Vin," she did meet his gaze as she continued to hold him. "Please remember that you are not alone, not for a moment. Chris is hurting and he's twisted up inside because of what she did to him but he has always considered you his friend. There are no many things in life a person can know with that much certainty but I do know that and when this is over, he'll tell you himself."

Vin did not speak and continued to thank god that she was his wife because he would not have endured this without her.

* * *

There was something going on in the street.

This, Julia Pemberton thought as she walked down the boardwalk and saw two men rolling around in the dirt fighting. Whatever the reason had caused the altercation was beyond her caring. In truth, the lady was just was glad to note as she made her way to the jailhouse that it was not Ezra or any of the seven that was embroiled in it. Despite the fact that she loved every one of them as being part of the extended family she had found in Four Corners, they always seemed to be in the centre of trouble.

However, no sooner than that thought had crossed her mind, she knew that it could not possibly be the seven since they were probably still searching for Chris Larabee. Although she had been in town for about an hour, Julia had socialised long enough to visit Mary who was still very much bed ridden and being tended to by Inez who had been staying in the Larabee home as house guest and private nurse. It pained Julia to see the normally strong and determined Mary Travis Larabee so weak and vulnerable. Julia tried to hide her shock at seeing how pale the demure blond had been. Her lips were almost devoid of colourand there were shadows in her face from the loss of blood through the ordeal of childbirth.

Mary had weakly thanked Julia for taking Billy with her during her trip and Julia had to confess that it was not at all a chore. It had been her pleasure to help in some small way and if occupying the mind of a child whom she adored for a few days while he forgot the worries of his mother's state of health and his father's continued disappearance, she was all the more pleased. As of yet the seven had not returned, having left town the day after the birth of baby Michael upon hearing some news from Vin. Julia was on her way home to get some well needed rest when she suddenly noticed the familiar buckskin coat stepping into the centre of the melee of the street and taking charge.

It was Vin!

If Vin Tanner was in town then so must Ezra, Julia thought. She had passed by the saloon there a few moments ago and saw no sign of Ezra. If the gambler was not in his tavern then he was most likely asleep or at the jailhouse. Since the latter was on her way home, she decided to drop in and see if he was there. She might have asked Vin but as she noted the tracker pulling apart the two men that looked like drifters, Julia decided he was probably busy and it was a simple of matter of stepping inside the small building to have the question answered.

She entered the jailhouse and shut the door behind her, immediately locking out the sound of the commotion outside as she did so. The sound of wood against brick was loud enough to rouse the one prisoner inside the cell and she allowed her eyes to scan the length and breath of the small prison before deciding that Ezra was definitely not here. Julia was about to turn back to the door when suddenly a voice spoke to her.

"Hey wait." A decidedly familiar voice called out.

Julia recognised it immediately and swung around, seeing the figure rise from the bed inside the bars of one of the cells. "Chris is that you?"

"Yeah," his voice drawled lazily. "Can you get me out of here?"

"How did you get in there?" Julia asked, not even thinking twice as she retrieved the keys that were hanging on the wall next to the doorway. There was on reason to of course, this was Chris Larabee missing in action for almost a week and like everyone else who waited for his return, she was glad to see him.

"Came in here for a rest and accidentally locked myself in." Chris answered as he watched the petite redhead approach the cell with the jangle of keys accompanying her steps forward.

"Where have you been?" Julia inquired as she reached the door and slid the key into the lock. She was so intent in learning the answer that she had not noticed the way Chris was poised to react the moment she twisted the key and allowed the door to open.

"In trouble." Chris responded, taut with anticipation as he heard metal locking out of place.

No sooner than she started to pull out the key, Chris pulled the door forward. Julia stumbled slightly and he caught her. As the small redhead fell into his arms, he was immediately bombarded by the smell of her, by the warmth of her body in his arms and the needs that had been denied to him started to become an acute craving that he wanted satisfied here and now.

Without giving her chance to recover from her near fall, Chris pressed his mouth against her and kissed her hard. He was brutal in his desire and immediately sent her recoiling as she sunk her nails into his face out of shock and pulled back. Chris let out a small cry of pain before he shoved her through the door of the cell and proceeded to follow her out of it.

"How dare you!" She said in nothing less than outrage.

"Oh come on Julia," he grabbed her arm and pulled her to him.

She was still too shocked by his behaviour to respond and could only stare wide eyed as he held her firm in his grip, blood trickling from the broken skin of his cheek where she had scratched him. A part of her could not believe this was happening. This was Chris Larabee.

"Its not like you don't enjoy spreading it around it is?" He hissed as he looked into her astonished emerald colored eyes with a cold sneer. "I mean, let's face it before Ezra, you were doing everyone. Its my turn for a little taste." He smiled.

"Let go of me you son a bitch!" She slapped him hard and he reacted with little more than a flinch.

Suddenly his hand was holding onto her face by the chin, digging into the skin as he pulled her close and warned. "Don't play rough with me Julia," he retorted. "I do it better."

With that, he slammed her against the wall, knocking Julia's head hard against the brick surface. She felt her head swim as he approached her and the raw edge of panic grabbed her when she saw those predatory eyes preparing to attack. She had to get out here. Scrambling past him, Chris grabbed her arm before she could escape the corner he had placed her and hit her hard with a backhanded blow. She hit the wall again, this time impacting against the hard surface enough to make her swoon with disorientation as she tumbled to her knees. Julia looked up and saw Chris advancing and knew that if she did not make it past him now, she would not be doing so at all. While the present situation did not afford her the time to question what was wrong with him, Julia was not about to remain any longer and find out the hard way. Still on her knees, she scrambled past him only to have Chris sink his fingers into her hair and haul to her feet, forcing a cry of pain from her she felt the strands of hair tugg ing at her scalp.

"You ain't going nowhere." He whispered in her ear and ran one palm around the length of her body, pausing long enough to cup her breast.  

The reason inside Julia snapped.

She dug her nails into his hand, slicing through the initial dermal layer until she penetrated flesh and then she raked her fingers back, bringing blood with each digit. Chris screamed and made an effort to regain hold of her as she broke free, managing only to snare the sleeve of her arm which came apart with a loud rip when she kept going, not prepared to be hindered in her escape by anything, especially by a dress. She hurried to the door just as it opened and she ran straight into Vin Tanner's arms.

"Christ!" Vin cursed, swearing a multitude of silent obscenities at those idiots outside who had still yet to recover from last night's drinking binge when they had made a public nuisance of themselves and required his waling out of this place. Vin had thought it would be alright since Chris was safely inside a cell unable to bring harm to anyone however, he should have known better. This was Chris Larabee after all.

"Nice of you to join our little party." Chris said with a vicious smile. "Shut the door and the two of us can get to know the lady a little better."

"Get back in the cell Chris." Vin said in a no nonsense voice as produced the Winchester. "We done this dance before. I told you I won't kill you but I can hurt you."

For an instant, Vin had the terrible feeling that Chris was going to test his resolve but then the first symptoms of withdrawal began presenting itself in the gunslinger's face and he stepped back into the cell. Clutching his side, Chris returned meekly into his cage, perhaps realising as his frenzy began to fade what was coming and it might be truly safer to be confined for his own sake.

"You always had good timing Vin," Chris said hoarsely, descending from that place of black rage that had almost caused him to do something most unspeakable. A moment ago, he had no idea where he was. Then Vin had stepped into the jailhouse and stopped him from further venting his desires on the woman who was staring at him at this instant, with tear filled eyes. Julia gaped at him with shock intermingled with confusion and fear, unable to understand why he was behaving in this vile manner. As he felt her terror, Chris found himself feeling something very unexpected

Relief.

He looked at the man brandishing the gun and although a moment ago, he wanted to tear Vin Tanner's heart right out of his chest, he did not feel that hostility now. Instead he felt something that had been buried inside of him for so long that he could not remember when it had gone, knowing only that the pain that was twisting up his insides like a corkscrew, had released it from its hiding place. "I need to sit down." He said breathlessly, staggering into the cell when suddenly the pain surfaced suddenly, with even more intensity than before and he screamed in guttural pain as he fell against the bars, clutching the length of iron as agony racked through him.

Vin took a step forward when Chris turned around and faced him, looking not at the enemy for the first time but at his friend. In the mire of his agony, Chris had achieved the clarity that had been lost to him when he became that other person, that animal that hurt  _all_  his friends. For the first time in too long, he had some sense of himself, some idea of the man he had been. It took the pain to make him focus and then Chris realised that was what it had always taken to make him strong.

The pain.

Always the pain. When Sarah and Adam had died, he had wanted to die too but when he did chose to live, the pain of their loss had strengthened him. It had fired his soul with a hard edge that made him damn near invulnerable to the men who tried to kill him and to those who followed him were more than ready to die for him. Men like Vin Tanner who had had allowed him to gut them with his words just so he could not indulge himself in the rapture of taking a life because Laurel's drug had made him into a savage. Men who were his friends.

"Vin!" Chris looked at him, trying not to scream again and form some coherent words.

"I'm here pard," Vin felt his heart quicken because what he was hearing from Chris was not the creature that had taunted him the night before. Nor was it the man who had murdered all those others in the arena but his friend, the one he was willing to endure all this to have back in one piece.

"Lock me up!" Chris gasped. "Lock me up before I hurt someone else!"

Vin blinked, feeling himself almost overcome with emotion hearing that simple demand. Overcome because it was Chris who was pleading with him to shut the cell door as Vin hurried forward, retrieving the key from the floor where Julia had dropped it in her struggles with Chris. Chris was tearing at his skin, leaving far more vicious scrapes in his flesh than Julia had been forced to deliver when she was fighting for her life. Chris dropped heavily into his bunk and buried his face in the pillow as he started to feel the withdrawal tearing him inside out

His muffled screams soon filled the room.

Vin shut the door and locked it before staggering backwards, trying to remain strong just for a little longer when he noticed Julia who was sobbing. He took a step towards the small redhead and allowed her to take solace in her arms as she wept her fears away.

"What in God's name happened to him?" She demanded after a moment, pushing away enough to meet his gaze while tears still ran down her cheeks as she wiped the blood running down her nose.

Vin did not answer that question but managed another. "I don't know," he replied. "But at least he's back now." His voice almost broke as he made that statement. "He's back."

* * *

Chris was home.

It was all Mary could think of as she lay in her bed, watching the sky outside her window evolve from day to night with that news encompassing her thoughts so completely that she knew nothing else and had hardly noticed the passage of time drifting past her. She lay against the soft mattress, hearing the distant cooing of her baby in his crib as he remained mesmerized by the little mobile made of brightly colored paper birds that dangled overhead, oblivious to the trials that both his mother and father were enduring. She remembered what Buck had said and what he had tried not to say, trying to remain indifferent to her state of her health so she would not coax the truth from him. However, Mary knew the truth inside her soul and with that knowledge, there was nothing Buck could keep from her. As best as she could understand it, Chris was not himself. He was hurt badly and worse yet, he did not know her. Mary ruminated on that horrifying thought for hours after Buck had gone, rememberin g every single moment of her life with Chris Larabee and refusing to believe for one moment that he could ever forget her.

Women did not think with the language of the mind as men often did. Perhaps a hundred years from now, someone would discover why that was but for the here and now, it was a truth as universal as the fact that the sun would come up every day. Mary did not think with her mind even though she used it better than most women of her day. She thought with her heart and her heart whose relationship with the soul was so interconnected that there was no way to discern where one began and the other ended knew that her husband needed her.

Even if he did not know who she was.

Mary pulled herself out of bed, feeling her body ache in pain as she did so and refusing to allow the weakness that had blighted the joyous occasion of bringing her son into the world hamper her any further. Chris needed her and she was going to him even if it meant risking her health. Her body heaved in protest as she exerted it more than she ought to at this delicate time when she forced herself to leave the softness of the mattress and support herself on her own two feet. Standing upright brought a wave of dizziness to her but Mary did not care.

She reached for her robe and took a step forward, feeling the physical limitations of her body reminding her acutely of its presence. She took a deep breath and steadied herself and took a few more steps, all the way to Michael's crib. She paused then and looked at her son. His eyes were following the movements of the birds flying in their circular path over him, fascinated by their colour. Mary allowed herself a little smile as she once again sighed with the pleasure at his inheriting his father's eyes. She wondered what it would have been like to know Chris in the days when he looked through his own eyes with such wonder, before the pain and loss had made them so different than the pure product she now saw.

Mary had little time to ponder that question and stopped before her wardrobe, retrieving a long coat, which she slid over her bare shoulders, completely unconcerned that she was wearing only her nightgown beneath it. She slipped on her slippers and continued out the door, moving quietly most because she was too weak to go any faster. She crept down the stairs, hearing the voices of Buck and Inez, catching up after days apart. Mary ensure that her departure went unnoticed because Inez would kick up a royal fuss if she even thought that Mary was attempting to leave her bed, let alone the house. Inez was just as fiercely protective of her health as she was about Elena Rose's and tended to treat Mary in the same way when the blond would not cooperate.

Stepping out of her house, she was immediately treated to the warm heat of the disappearing day against her skin. She knew it was not all, proper that she venture out of the house like this but she did not care. Taking a deep breath of fresh air heated by dust and intoxicating because its content was so filled with life, Mary continued gingerly down the boardwalk, making her way towards the jailhouse. She was completely oblivious to the stares she was garnering from the good folk of Four Corners, who was wondering with looks of unhidden astonishment, why she was walking around the way she was.

"Mary darling," Gloria Potter met her on the boardwalk, having come out to investigate the slight murmur that had rippled through her store when Mary had walked past. "You should not be out." The older woman said with genuine concern, able to tell by the near gray pallor of her skin that she had not returned to her former robust state of health. "You just had a baby my dear, you need to rest."

"No its alright," Mary said quietly. "I need to walk. I feel like I've been trapped in a prison all week. I need to feel the sunshine."

She did not want to say that her husband was suffering inside the jailhouse and that his need for her overrode Mary's concerns over her health. Buck had mentioned that they were keeping Chris' return to Four Corners quiet for the moment. Although some of the townsfolk had knocked on the door of the jailhouse to investigate some of the screams that were emanating form the building, the lawmen had reassured them that it was nothing to worry about, attributing the commotion to a drunk they had in the tank.

"But Mary...." Mrs. Potter started to protest when Mary pulled away and continued up the streets, refusing to be deterred in any way from her course.

Chris needed her and that was all there as to it.

* * *

"Mary," JD exclaimed when he opened the door to the jailhouse, following the knock he had heard that drew him forward in the first place. He had thought it was another nosy person trying to inquire what was the cause of the screams they had heard from the jailhouse a short time ago. Now as he saw Mary waiting entrance into the jail, he wished it for such inquiries again.

The youth stared at the woman for a moment, uncertain of what to do, aware that he could not keep her out and feeling inwardly that he did not really have a right to.

"I want to see him JD." Mary said firmly, with a spark in her blue gray eyes that told him immediately that she would not take no for an answer and that it was best to concede defeat now before any more was said.

"But...." he stammered.

"Now JD," she repeated herself. "Now."

JD glanced over his shoulder at Josiah who was accompanying him while they kept a vigil on Chris, continuing the cycle that had begun since the return of the seven to Four Corners. The preacher nodded at him slowly, deciding that they had no choice in the matter because Mary did have a right to see him and neither was willing to aggravate a woman who in her sickly state had forced herself halfway across town to see her husband. Neither of them was man enough to stand up to that kind of fierce determination.

JD pulled open the door and Mary stepped inside slowly.

Both men tried to hide how shocked they were at her appearance because she looked very pale indeed with shadows under her eyes, no doubt from exhaustion over the difficult delivery as well as worrying over her husband's disapperance. Mary entered the room and she could hear loud murmurs of speech, crying out in anger at times and sobbing in pain at the others. She knew without having to see it for herself that it was Chris making those sounds.

She exchanged glances with Josiah and JD as she neared the cell where Chris was currently suffering the pain of withdrawal. As she neared, she could smell the stench familiar to that of vomit and felt her heart ache inside her chest more potently than the stitches that were holding her womb close, at the thought of what he was enduring.

She found him on the floor of the cell, knees pressed up to his chest, holding his legs close to his body as he fought against the pain. Sweat covered every inch of him as the spasmodic jerks in his limbs indicated the malaise he was attempting to overcome as he fought to dispel the noxious substance inside his body.

Mary allowed herself to slide to the floor and she moved right up to the bars before peering at Chris through the lengths of metal. "Chris." She called out softly.

Chris responded immediately, reacting to her voice like someone had touched his skin. He met her gaze with bloodshot eyes and grit his teeth as recognition flooded into his mind.

The memory of gold hair.

"Go away!" He gasped out loud, with tears running down his cheeks as he was rendered inside by the cramping sensations that were driving him mad. "Go!"

"No," she shook her head slowly. "I won't."

"Go!" He shouted louder, becoming more agitated by her continued presence. "I....don't....want....you...to...see...me....like.....this!" Each word was a painful stutter.

"I love you Chris," Mary said softly, resting her head against the bar and continued to speak with a gentle sigh. "He's beautiful, you know." She smiled, not quite looking at him and allowing that hypnotic voice to filter into the room. It was almost like music and JD and Josiah who watched and listened were similarly entranced by the siren song of deep abiding love overcoming all odds.

"He looks just like you. He doesn't have any hair yet but the eyes are all yours." She continued, letting her words soothe him where nothing else could reach. "I kept staring into them that first day, knowing that as long as he kept looking at me with those beautiful eyes, you weren't really gone."

"Oh God Mary!" Chris gasped and crawled to the bars like a frightened animal. He was next to her in seconds, taking her outstretched hand in his and cradling it next to his body as he started to weep in deep loud sobs. "I couldn't remember you! I could feel you inside me but I couldn't remember you!"

Mary blinked and felt the tears run down her cheeks as Chris held her hand close to his chest, rocking back and forth slowly as he continued to sob. She slipped her other hand through the cage that separated them and stroke his hair gently, never loving him more than at this moment.

"I remembered you Chris," she smiled. "That's enough for the both of us."

"I knew your name and I knew that you were someone once but I couldn't see you!" He bent forward, leaning into her soft caress against his brow, not even bothering to compose himself because the withdrawal had ripped control and restraint away from him. "I knew things about who I was but I couldn't remember what any of it meant to me and after awhile, I didn't even care."

Mary felt her soul shudder seeing this man she loved so much, this man who was always so strong for her, reduced to this. "Listen to me," she said firmly and made him look at her again. "I love you and you remember me now which means you're almost there. You have to hang on for me Chris, you have to hang on for me and for our sons. Do you understand?"

Chris nodded wildly because that much sunk in without difficulty.

"For you Mary," he whispered in understanding. "For you."


	9. Choices

He was hungry.

It was the kind of hunger that was deep and penetrating, gnawing away at one's inside until they could think of nothing else but to satiate the desire. Even while he slept, he could feel its gravelly tendrils reaching for him through the dreamscape, reminding him that he was a physical creature when in his dreams he wanted nothing to do with flesh. Eventually, the need for food became so intense, Chris Larabee found himself drawn out of the comforting embrace of his sleep into stark cold of reality. He opened his eyes and found himself breathing it in with its entirety, trying to shake the feeling away so he could return to sleep but soon realised that with wakefulness came a strengthening of the yearning.

He sat up with a start, mostly because he had no idea of where he was.

He felt like a man who had emerged from a deep sleep and for a moment, the recollections of the past few days remained vague and obscure. The scent of Mary lingered on the pillow and suddenly, he realised he was home, sleeping in the bed shared with Mary whom at present was not in the room. Chrisrecognised the sheets on the bed, took in the sight of that familiar pattern of flowers against white linen and a stray thought ran through his mind that it was her favourite, being a wedding gift from Inez.

Home.  

At last he was at home. He let his head dropped into the pillow again, burying his nose against its softness and taking a deep breath, letting his soul melt inside him with warmth when he breathed her in. Every time he drew breath, he felt Mary invading him, comforting him with her scent and tears ran down his cheeks without his even being aware of how deliriously happy he was to be home finally. As he closed his eyes and hugged the pillow close to him, the details of everything that had happened to him resurfaced in his mind and Chris began to weep softly because he was spared nothing.

Chris remembered it all. The rages where he had done things that made him sick just thinking about it and would be with him until the day he died. He saw the men he had killed in his dementia, who had been just as twisted out of shape as he had. He would carry their faces with him forever as well as the guilt of knowing that it was he who ended their lives in a vision of pain and violence. Other memories were not as brutal but no less devastating. Chris thought about Laurel Chase and how he has lusted after her. He closed his eyes and try not to become overcome with disgust. Beautiful she might have been but Chris could not view the entire coupling as anything but odious. There was no pleasure to be had there and the only reason she had forced him to succumb was because of what she had done to him.

_Vin._

The memory of what he had said to his best friend had been the worst recollection of all. He had to close his eyes just to come to grips with the memory of what he had said and done to Vin and it made the pain all the more worse. Vin who no doubt would have been the chief architect of his freedom. Oh, he knew that all the seven had come to his rescue and had no less feeling for his return than the tracker but Chris knew instinctively without having to hear it for himself that Vin would have tirelessly searched until some clue as to his whereabouts surfaced.

The words he had used stabbed at him when Chris remembered them in all its stark cruelty. At the time he had been oblivious to what he was saying but now that he was himself again and recanted them, he knew that each insult would have torn the tracker inside even though Vin would never show it. Chris did not know how he was going to face the man again. In fact at the moment, he was having trouble trying to understand how he could ever face any one of his friends. He was not clear what had happened to him, having only a vague recollection of some talk about a drug. Drug or not, it did not remove the stain of what he had done.

Suddenly, he heard the sound of something moving in the room with him. Foggy as his senses might have been, he still had presence of mind to react to danger. Chris sat up immediately and winced at the aches and pains in his body when he positioned himself upright and saw the curtain's billowing through the open window. The noise he had heard came from the corner of the room and were soft chimes that were more pleasant then they were loud. It took a moment for him to register what had caused that noise.

The mobile of colored birds circled the crib, allowing the breeze to continue their unending journey in an infinite circle. They swayed a bit in their course but mostly held firm, trapped by pieces of wire that allowed them to have the magical consistency of flight. Chris' breath held for a second and then two as he pushed himself out of the bed, his bare feet touching the floorboards, allowing the blood to circulate through his body for the first time in days in an upright position. He had to steady himself for a few seconds and Chris was struck with the thought with how long he had actually been in that bed. Everything after Mary coming to see him was a blank and he prayed that there were no more unpleasant memories to fill in that space of time as well.

The crib was rocking ever so slightly and Chris was almost afraid to approach it but he could not stop himself from advancing further. The crib was the one and Mary had selected in Sweet Water more than a month ago. Little ribbons of blue were tied here and there and made it look very much like something an infant would find homely. Chris glanced at the coloured birds floating over the crib and remembered carving them. At the time, he had not told Mary that he had done the same just before Adam was born.

Peering over the edge, Chris saw the baby staring in fascination at the movement overhead, expressing his excitement by wriggling happily within the soft warm confines of his bed. His blue eyes followed the circular pattern of flight by the shapes overhead and there was the barest hint of a smile on his bow shaped lips, as he remained mesmerized by what he was seeing. He paid no attention to Chris' arrival probably because he had no idea of the man's presence since peripheral vision at this stage of life would have been fleeting and undiscernibly to a mind so soon from the womb. He was clad in the baby clothes Chris recalled Mary knitting over several weeks during the tertiary part of her pregnancy.

A small smile reached the gunslinger's face when images of her delicate fingers working the yarn into some kind of sense surfaced in his mind. Chris took another step closer until he overshadowed the crib and attracted the child's attention. Blue eyes identical to his own shifted from the colorful scenery above and met his gaze. The presence of someone drew a little gurgle from the babe's lips and he wriggled even faster, still wearing that happy expression on his face as he stared at the new arrival.

Chris reached out slowly, almost afraid to touch the fragile creature before him. Inside the hardened gunslinger, there was a well of something about to burst free, breaking through the cracks formed in its confinement by the ordeal of the past few days. The baby saw his hand and reached out, wrapping his tiny fist around one full-grown digit. He held his father's finger in his small hand and brought it to his face, examining it with curiosity and then uttering another gurgle before deciding it looked good enough to eat and began gnawing at it with his toothless gums.

Chris blinked and hot tears rolled down his cheeks as he reached up and picked up his son. He saw Mary everywhere and the memory of Adam became so strong at that moment that Chris could hardly breathe. Old habits kicked in and he slid his hands in all the correct places before lifting the baby out of his crib. The child did not react very much to being carried; having decided in the short time of his existence that he liked being carried. Chris held onto his son the way he used to carry Adam in his arms so long ago, feeling the loss of that beautiful child more profoundly than ever before and only being able to bear the pain because of the happy face that stared at him in expectation.

There was a rocking chair near by and Chris nestled into it. He had built that too for Mary because Sarah had always liked to do the same when Adam nursed. The chair creaked slightly as Chris put his weight into it and leaned back, allowing himself to rock slightly as he cradled his son in his arms. Chris could only stare at that angelic face that was still smiling at him, unaware of the boundless healing he was administering to his father's ravaged soul.

"Hey there pardner," Chris found his voice.

Naturally the child did not answer but the audio stimuli induced another interested gurgle.

"I guess I'm a little late getting here but I'm your pa." Chris answered his voice little more than a hoarse whisper. "I'm sorry I couldn't be here with you and your mother. Things, as you'll understand later on ain't never simple when it comes to  _our_  family."

Little Michael did not seem to mind and wriggled his tiny form in understanding.

"We got a strange family," Chris found himself speaking, feeling the emotion escape from him with each word he spoke until he was almost to the point of sobbing again but he managed to maintain control. "Ain't gonna be like most others." He whispered, looking about the room and realising that this moment more than anything else convinced him that he was home. "But they'll never let anything happen to you, just like I'll never let anyone hurt you. I promise you that Michael."

The child regarded his father with a somewhat unflappable expression, laced with a tiny smile that he was listening even if he did not wholly understand the words, he comprehended the emotion behind them. At that moment, he seemed frightfully reminiscent of someone else Chris knew who seem to wear that same face no matter what Chris asked of him. Suddenly, a flash of inspiration came to Chris that was so right that he was not about to question it and he looked at his son's face again.

"How does Michael Vin Larabee sound to you?" Chris asked softly.

"Sounds wonderful." Mary answered as she stood by the doorway, watching the exchange over the last few seconds and tried to hide the emotion in her eyes with a little smile.

"Mary," Chris looked up at her and then at their son once more. "You were right," he said almost breathless. "He is beautiful."

"Chris!" Billy wiggled past her and hurried to him. "You're okay!"

The boy crossed the space between them in a second and wrapped his arms around Chris who unfortunately for the bundle in his arms could only respond by running one hand through the boy's hair. "How's the man of the house been taking care of things while I've been gone?" Chris asked, suddenly feeling doubly bless because he was not the father of one but of two wonderful children.

"Just fine," Billy beamed. "I took care of things alright."

"Good," Chris smiled warmly. "What do you think of your new brother?"

Billy looked at Michael and grinned. "He's a little small but that just means I get to push him around when he gets bigger."

"Little brothers weren't made for much else," the gunslinger chuckled. He left Billy's gaze for a moment and looked at Mary, his eyes welling up with emotion as he saw the tears in her eyes as she stood by the door way, trying not to allow the moment to overwhelm her. He could understand her feelings on the matter because he was experiencing much of the same. Until this moment, neither of them had truly believed that things would be okay, that they could move past the terrible events of the last few days. However, as he continued to stare at her conveying so much without saying a word, Chris knew that he was home and beyond that fact, nothing else mattered.

Mary watched Chris for a moment with his two sons, trying not to weep in front of Billy because it would not be right to shed tears on such an occasion. She bore her happiness to see Chris in her eyes and knew that he could see her delight in having him home and being able to present him with a beautiful new son. There was a time when she was not sure that he would ever return to them, even though the seven had liberated him from the nightmarish place he had been trapped since his abduction from Vesta City.

After she had seen him in the jailhouse three days ago, Chris had lapsed into a terrible delirium of fire through which he suffered for two days until last yesterday. For two days and nights, Mary prayed to the same god that allowed such villainy to happen to him to allow him to survive its ravages. Alex and Nathan had worked tirelessly to keep his body temperature from rising beyond acceptable limits and both healers had performed a special kind of magic in their determination to keep him alive. Yesterday, the fever finally broke and everyone who waited with abated breath was finally allowed to release a grateful sigh.

Mary composed herself and walked towards her family as Chris spoke to Billy while at the same time holding his newest child in his arms, looking perfectly at ease with holding the babe who was similarly comfortable in his father's arms. Upon reaching them, she took Michael from Chris and returned the infant back to his crib. The child whimpered a bit at being removed from the warms arms of his father only to be abandoned inside his crib soon forgot his troubles when he was once again occupied with the crib mobile hanging over him.

"Billy," Mary looked at her oldest child. "Inez has some lunch waiting for you." She said gently.

Billy who was perceptive enough to know that his mother and father wanted a moment alone did not argue as he nodded in answer and gave Chris another hug before leaving the room. Once they were alone so to speak, Mary and Chris merely stared at each other. Before in the jailhouse, he had been so in pain that there had been little opportunity for a proper greeting but now, the moment was at hand and Mary crossed the floor and ran into his arms.

"Oh god Chris," she said embracing hard. "I thought we'd lost you."

The wall of emotion that he had been restraining in front of Billy burst forth and he held her tight, breathing in the scent of air and feeling a shudder of unbound gratitude flood his body at being able to do so again. The ordeal of the last days had been burned into memory with long lasting repercussions he was certain would rise soon enough but for the moment at least, he was home with her and that was all that matter.

"I could have died," he whispered holding her close, never wanting to let her go. "I could have died Mary and you  _still_  would never have lost me."

* * *

Despite the fleeting burst of energy that had allowed him to leave his bed and make a proper greeting not only to his wife and eight-year-old son, as well as the newest arrival in his growing family, Chris still spent the new few days in bed. Chris' return had been a tonic for Mary's own recovery and she was soon fussing over her new family without any sign that little more than a week ago, she had almost lost her life bringing little into the world. Chris on the other hand still had a great deal of mending to do, not merely from the physical trauma of what had happened to him but also the mental ordeal he had been forced to endure.

One thing was clear in his mind the moment the thoughts running through it became his own and not some byproduct of a drug induced dementia and that was the well of black hatred that seethed in the depths of him, waiting release again. Only this time, it did not require Ambrosia to engender that rage just the memory what Laurel Chase had done to him. In his life, there were few moments that affected him so personally that he could be so angry as to actually consider the taking of a life to not be unjustified. The murder of Sarah and Adam at Ella Gaines hands had been one of those times and it was a question never answered because in the end, it was Mary who struck the final blow and a part of him was grateful that he never had his answer. 

This time, there was no question in his mind about what he was to do. There was no dilemma was allowed to tumble about in the dark of his mind and give him reason to wrestle with his conscience at the morality of killing. When it came to Laurel Chase there was only one decision.  

He was going to find the bitch and kill her. 

In all his life he had prided himself in being in control, even at those moments of despair, Chris had maintained some part of himself intact. The memories of Sarah and Adam though painful were his to do with, his to comfort him in the cold nights when the longing became to much and his to use when he needed the rage to start sharp and alert. They were his most precious possession rivalled only by the presence of Mary and Billy in his life who with them had brought him peace of mind and happiness the likes of which he never thought he would have her again. What Laurel had did was worst than killing them. 

She had killed them inside him and that was a sin for which there was no forgiveness.  

Nobody did that to him and got away with it. No one. 

Thus Chris took his convalescence seriously because he intended to get well because the moment he was fit enough to ride he was going back to Sparta and he was going to have his revenge. In his nightmares, he still remembered the men he had killed and even though they seemed somewhat distant, Chris could not forget that he had been made to murder them with his bare hands. Like some trained circus animal, she had him perform before an audience and then, his stomach would lurch every time he thought of his private performances for Miss Chase. Even though Mary had assured him that he was not responsible for whatever sins he might have committed under the influence, Chris still could not bring himself to tell her about his intimacies with Laurel. 

In the meantime, the rest of the seven dropped by to see him and Chris started to feel some semblance of normalcy returning to his life as familiar faces presented themselves once again. Nathan was most frequent of course, dropping by several times a day to see if he was mending properly while the others continued their duties guarding the town while Vin and Buck divided their time between that and the ranch. A little more than a week after his rescue from Sparta , Chris found himself in the backyard, finally believing himself strong enough to hear the details of how he had been rescued. 

Vin did not like the truth being revealed to him which only made the gunslinger grateful that Mary was in the house with the rest of the women, except Alex that is because Chris had asked for the doctor to be present, when the discussion was finally carried out. Chris felt profoundly grateful to the tracker who was trying admirably to spare him but Chris had to know for himself. Most of what he remembered was vague images and he had to understand what had happened to him in order to recover from the experience.  

His relationship with Vin had been distant since they returned from Sparta and from what he was told by Buck, it appeared that Vin had born the brunt of his rages while he had been suffering withdrawal. Buck did not elaborate what Chris had said to Vin specifically but judging from the difficult the normally talkative man had when discussing the subject, it did not require any feat of genius for Chris to realise that he must have been exceptionally cruel. When Chris had tried to apologise, the tracker had shrugged it off, saying that he understood that Chris was not in his right mind. 

Perhaps that was true but Chris could still see the hurt in his eyes. 

* * *

  
"Well I got one to thing to say about this stuff," Alex held the vial of white powder in her hands that had been the cause of so much heartache to Chris Larabee and by some extension her own husband. She was seated at the edge of the back porch with the rest of the seven, offering her expertise on the Ambrosia while inside the house, the sound of Mary and the other women were chattering happily, no doubt discussing the arrival of baby Michael as women tended to do. Alex herself was eager to join their company but for the moment, she had business to take care of with the lawmen of Four Corners and in particular, Chris Larabee who wanted to know what it was that had poisoned him. 

"It's a work of art." 

Her response immediately garnered a look of distaste from all the men around her who most likely could not see the beauty she was discussing. She could hardly blame them of course. As a doctor with research skills, they could hardly be expected to see the same things she did when she looked through a microscope or appreciate the expertise that had gone into the creation of this substance. 

"I beg to differ." Ezra commented, never being able to keep a comment to himself. 

"Tell me." Chris said nothing, remaining stony as he waited for Alex to explain herself to them.

"It's a mixture of organic material, fused together with something I can only assume is animal pheromones of some kind and chemicals." Alex replied, glancing at the contents for a moment before facing them again. "The result is a narcotic a thousand times more dangerous than opium and infinitely more devastating than morphia. This thing doesn't make you go out of your head like hopeless opium addicts who can only spend their time scavenging for more of the stuff. Combined with a certain amount of mental suggestion, this substance can literally turn a group of men into army that will without question or conscience. Its a good thing she decided to use this for just the purposes of entertaining the blue blood because if she decided to sell this to someone who could use an army, there's no telling what she could do." 

"She won't." Vin replied shaking his head, confident of that fact. "Too much out in the open." The tracker said looking at the others involved in the debate. "I tracked her days and no one knew who she was or where she could have come from. After you got back Chris, I talked to the Judge. Best they knew she did her schooling in New York and then nothing. She knows how to cover her tracks." 

"The lady is accustomed being hidden." Ezra frowned, disliking the conclusion they were being led to. "Am I to believe that even if we are to enlighten the authorities as to what is taking place in Sparta, our villainess is likely to escape the law nonetheless?" 

"I reckon so," the tracker returned giving Chris an apologetic look because he could tell the gunslinger wanted his vengeance badly. To the others, it was not so visible but to Vin, he could see it like the colours of the day. The need for vengeance was so potent that it virtually radiated from Chris Larabee and would continue to do so until something broke the cycle of rage. 

"Well we have to do something." Nathan retorted, just as familiar with the product inside the vial as Alex because they had worked on deciphering its secrets together. "The organic stuff as Miss Alex puts it ain't something that can be manufactured out of chemicals lying around. It can come from only one source." He paused as the idea surface in his mind and he had to swallow to force himself to say it. The human body." 

"So she's killing people to get this stuff out of their bodies so she can use to make more of that Ambrosia stuff?" JD asked, shuddering at the horror of it.  

"She couldn't do it any other way." Alex confessed and saw the faces tightening with disgust around her. Chris's eyes were unreadable and she did not want to imagine what he must have been thinking, now that he knew that he had been an unwitting recipient of a substance that had no doubt cost a great many their lives. 

"I think we better start writing the other towns around Sparta," Josiah spoke in his deep voice. "See if there have been any strange unexplained deaths. I don't know much about law but I think we better start collecting our evidence if we're going to stop this woman. We do this the way we usually do things and she'll just get a fancy lawyer to get her out of trouble when it finally gets to a judge." 

"Josiah's right," Chris said quietly. "We need to establish some kind of pattern." He exhaled loudly as he pushed aside his need for vengeance at the moment and considered how they would stop this obscenity from happening once again. "Alex, did she tell you how long the Arena had been around?" 

"No more than two years," Alex said automatically, having committed everything she had heard from Laurel Chase to memory. "However, business has been very lucrative since it began." The lady doctor offered. 

"Alright," Chris ruminated on her words for a moment and then responded. "We need to know if there have been any unexplained deaths as well as disappearances. All the men who fought and died in the Arena had to come from somewhere. I don't think that all of them were drifters like she said. What happened to me," he paused a moment and composed himself as the memory of his capture surfaced and brought with him a resurgence of rage that had no place in his mind right now. "Seemed like something Laurel was very accustomed to doing so I'll bet there have been others. At the very least, those men's families have a right to know what happened to them." 

"Damn straight," Buck agreed wholeheartedly with that course of action. No one should have to endure the terrible feeling of not knowing what had happened to a husband, father or friend, the way they had when Chris' fate was a still an unknown. "Sure as hell they're out there." 

"We ought to wire the law around and about those parts," Nathan suggested. "Get some men out there to shut that place down." 

"That may prove more difficult then we think," Ezra commented. "We are operating under the assumption that she conducted her affairs in Sparta without the assistance of local law enforcement. I would suggest that we enlist the aid of Federal authorities." 

"You mean the army." JD guessed what Ezra was alluding and found that it was not entirely an unreasonable request since where else could they turn if they could not trust the law in the towns surrounding Laurel’s enclave. 

Chris took a deep breath, aware of what would be the most expedient way of settling this issue in regards to bringing the army in on this. Ezra was correct, they could not attempt to bring Laurel to justice on their own. He had learnt much about the enemy since he had fallen under her spell and knew enough to say for certain that when he finally went back to Sparta, Laurel would be ready for him. Unfortunately, the method that would smooth the way in the matter of the army’s participation would require him to contact the one person he did not wish to tell about his fall from grace. However, if he wanted to stop Laurel, he would have no choice and Chris’ hatred for her at the moment overrode even those sensibilities.

 "I’ll wire the General." Chris said quietly, making the offer heard so that he could not change his mind. 

"That would make things a might easier," Josiah nodded in agreement. 

"Chris," Vin noted how much Chris disliked the idea and spoke directly to his friend. "You don’t have to do this."  

"Yes I do," Chris said with a sigh. "If I want this bitch stopped in her tracks, we’re gonna need all the help we can get because the risks if we get caught are too much." 

He saw the ripple effect at the realisation of what capture would mean cross all their faces and no one liked that prospect at all. Chris saw Alex’s eyes cloud in fear as she regarded Vin and suddenly Chris had an idea that should Laurel chose to retaliate for his escape, it would not be he who suffer the brunt of her anger. It would be Vin. It was Vin who had spearheaded the attempt to retrieve him. Vin who had been certain that it was Laurel who had been responsible for his abduction from the very beginning and Vin who had finally breached the fortress of the Arena to retrieve him.  

"We ain’t taking no chances." Chris stated just so they all understood. "Let’s just shut Sparta down and do it with our skins intact. We can worry about settling with Laurel later." 

Yet as Vin looked in Chris’ eyes, he knew that Chris was lying. 

* * *

When all the visitors to the Larabee home had finally went their separate ways, Vin found reason to remain behind. Since this had all began and following Chris’ return home, neither tracker and gunslinger had opportunity to talk. Considering what had taken place after Chris had been liberated from Sparta, the lack of silence could have been blamed from anything that could be considered reluctance or simple avoidance.

Chris was still outside in what passed for the backyard of the home, seated on the porch staring at the stars. During his confinement, Laurel’s leash had kept him from seeing the night sky unless he was allowed out of his cage to fight. Now that he was free again, Chris wanted to soak as much of the starlight as he could instead of being merely content to catch glimpses of it during a life and death struggle. His insides hollowed each time the memory of the Arena surfaced and Chris knew it would be this way for some time to come, perhaps even for the rest of his life.

"Chris," Vin said taking a seat next to him.

"Vin," Chris acknowledged his best friend and the pregnant pause between them lengthen as both waited for one or the other to speak.

Finally it was Vin who broke the silence, since he had a genuine reason for seeking Chris out at this time. "I don’t you should be going back with us to Sparta." 

The gunslinger turned to him sharply and glared with obviously strong objections to the suggestion. "I’m going." 

Vin had guessed it would not be this simple but he was not going to allow his friendship with Chris cloud his judgement the way revenge had tainted Chris. He supposed if he was in Chris’ place he would be just as thirsty for revenge but the entire purpose of a best friend was to keep one from carrying out such foolishness when it was clearly ill advised to do so. "You ain't ready to go back and face her." 

Chris glared at Vin with a mixture of astonishment and outrage, wondering how Vin could think it his place to make such a statement. He had endured nothing of the hell that Chris had been through, how dare he claim that Chris was not ready to face Laurel Chase. "How would you know what I'm ready to face?" Chris finally allowed himself to speak. "You ain't the one who became some kind of monster thanks to that bitch!"  

 _No_ , Vin thought inwardly _, I'm just the one who had to sit and take it when you decided to blame me._  

However, Vin kept that bitter thought remain unspoken, reminding himself that Chris had been through a lot and he was hurting from being used and manipulated. It was the anger talking, nothing else. Instead, the tracker decided to take the calm approach. "Chris," he said after a moment, gathering his thoughts and responding. "You're barely on your feet. You've got your strength back but not enough to face this. We both now that she'll be waiting for us, mostly because she knows you'll go after her." 

"I'm going." Chris repeated himself firmly, prepared to be completely unmovable on this point. "You can ride with me or you can stay behind but I'm going to Sparta, whether you like it or not." 

"You got responsibilities here." Vin replied. "Mary just went through hell delivering your child. You got a family who's been worried sick about you. Don't you think you have a responsibility to them?" 

"Don't you dare tell me where my responsibilities lie!" Chris barked at him angrily. "I got more responsibility than you can possibly imagine. How would you know anything about responsibility? When things get hard, you disappear, come back when the dust settles. You are the last person to lecture me on my responsibilities!" 

Vin said nothing, even though there were many words he could have used to hurt Chris as equally as he had been but the tracker did not have it inside him to be deliberately mean, especially when it was to his best friend. Rising to his feet, he decided there was nothing more to say and started walking away. "Be seeing you pard."

Chris stared at the back of Vin striding away and felt a wave of anguish rise up inside him. It was only after Vin was out of sight and earshot, did Chris respond.

"Damn."

* * *

Chris did not see Vin again until three days later after the telegram alerted the seven that a platoon of soldiers would be meeting them on route to Sparta, having received direct orders from a general in Washington to cooperate fully with the lawmen from Four Corners. As they prepared to ride out, the rest of the seven were aware that there was something between the tracker and the gunslinger and though they wished it were anything but so considering how deeply their friendship had been tested of late, no one moved to intervene.

When the seven took a break in their journey to Sparta, the tracker had withdrawn into the darkness, professing to take on the role of camp lookout as he so often did during their trips away from Four Corners. Chris of course knew the reason for Vin's reluctance to be in their company and felt somewhat guilty for being so harsh with the tracker when it was obvious the younger man had been worried about his welfare. After hours of enduring the line of tension than ran through the group, Chris decided that enough was enough.

Pouring a cup of hot coffee for himself and for the tracker, Chris finally trudged off to find Vin.

Vin was staring into the horizon and merely looked over his shoulder to give Chris an indication that he was aware of his presence and the gunslinger could approach without the fear of having a bullet put through him. The younger man was sitting cross-legged, staring into the full moon above head and Chris wondered how someone so young could seem so old at times.

Taking the space next to Vin, Chris handed him the coffee and received a non-committal grunt of thanks, as both men remained seated side by side for a few more minutes, saying nothing. Since it was his show, Chris decided it ought to be him that spoke first because he was the one who ought to be apologizing.

"Vin, I'm sorry." Chris said with a loud exhale, as if the admission was a physical discomfort. "I said some things that weren't called for. You've been my friend through a lot of bad times and a lot of good ones. I was angry but I shouldn't have taken it out on you."

"I still don't think you ought to be coming with us." Vin stated not looking at him as he made that declaration.

Chris supposed he should be angry but he did not feel it and perhaps a little part of him knew that Vin was right. Besides, he had behaved badly enough to be able to endure a little bit of petulance from Vin if the tracker chose to display it.

"You're probably right." Chris admitted. "I ain't up to what I normally am and I've so filled with hate right now, it's hard to think straight but I have to do this."

"Why?" Vin shifted his gaze towards him for the first time during this entire exchange. "Because you lay with her?"

"I barely remember it," Chris found himself speak about the most difficult aspect of his captivity. Not even the killing had made him as uncomfortable about this because he had killed men before this and had not as much trouble with his conscience but the fact that aside from her circus animal, she had also made him her prized stud. "I know I wanted her like I wanted nothing before and every time I saw her, I wanted her even more even if I didn't know why."

"The others don't know," Vin said quietly. "They know how friendly you were with Laurel but not how far it had gone." Vin had inadvertently learnt the truth during his attempt to free Chris from the Arena where they had faced each other across the battle not as friends, but for the first time as enemies. "I didn't say nothing." 

"I didn't think you would." Chris remarked with a little smile. "I can't expect you to understand but I've got to go after her. I need to know that what happen to me was because of that drug, not some part of me that actually wanted the woman." 

Vin nodded in understanding because he would hate to have that specter in the married bed with him for the rest of his life, wondering whether he had betrayed his wife because of the weakness of the flesh or because of the poison put into his body.  

"We've seen a lot of bad men and women come and gone in our time, ain't we Chris?" Vin asked suddenly. 

"That we have." Chris agreed bitterly. If there were to count the enemies they had faced over the years, then a wretched number that would be. From the warden at that prison where he had been Inmate 78, to Ely Joe, Guy Royal and Stuart James, Don Paulo, Selina Quint to even more outrageous villains like that mechanical creature from the future and the evil Goa'ulds Sekhmet and Isis, they literally seen it all. 

"This ones scares me Chris." Vin confessed. "Never thought I'd hear myself say that about a woman especially but she scares the hell out of me." 

Chris could understand why. Laurel Chase was unlike any enemy they had ever known. Behind the extraordinary beauty was what could only be considered a monster. He had thought Ella was insane but at least had a reason for doing what she had. Even though the crime had left profound effect on his, Chris understood to a certain extent the motivation that caused the murder of his son and wife. However, with Laurel there was no reason and while profit seemed to be on her agenda, Chris did not get the impression it was about that at all. 

"No conscience, no morality, nothing." Chris found himself musing. "She does what she does because she can and nothing else." 

It was true. Over the last few days, he had given great thought to the matter of Laurel Chase, particularly after information started coming in through the wire when inquiries had been made about the woman. Before her disappearance following her graduation from some fancy school in New York, Laurel Chase had everything. She had a family who loved her, a happy childhood and yet Chris could not help wondering if the fire that had taken her parents was entirely accidental. 

"I'm worried that if she gets her hands on you, this time she's gonna kill you pard." Vin answered. "She strikes me as being mean enough to do that out of a spite and nothing else." 

However, for some reason Chris could not explain, it was not him she would kill. 

* * *

They met the army in a small town called Broken Hill and continued the journey towards Sparta, feeling the dreaded anticipation of entering that place of sin pressing up against their lungs with each mile they neared. Upon continuing the last leg of the trip, the inquiries that had been undertaken in response to Laurel's victims began to surface with the detailed report the Lieutenant was able to make on their behalf. With the General's claim that the matter was of utmost importance, Lieutenant Berenson had been most thorough and found this trek to the middle of nowhere was worth the journey in the face of what he had learnt. 

Over the past two years at least one hundred men had gone missing in one shape or another across the Territory, particularly around the area where Sparta resided. Most of these were drifters. However, some were family men. The pattern though non-existent at the time was now easy to discern with what Chris knew. They were always healthy men with young families who were never in town of their residence when they disappeared. Often, the local authorities had attributed the disappearances to men who simply discarded the shackles of responsibility since they were young enough to taste life elsewhere. 

Whether or not this conclusion had been reached by local law as a genuine explanation and not some clandestine attempt to conceal the work of a murderess was inconclusive, Berenson remarked. However, the rest of the dead particularly the drifters, were mutilated in almost the same way, the removal of glandular organs with surgical precision. Without doubt, Chris and the rest of the seven knew this was the work of Laurel Chase. Since Berenson had suspected a common tread linking all these deaths, decided that the gunslinger and his cadre of lawmen were correct and was eager to aid in the capture of what he was calling a mass murderer. 

Almost after the longest month of Chris Larabee's life, they finally returned to the familiar surroundings of Sparta. However, the moment the town came into their sights, it was clear that something was wrong. The place that the seven had remembered was full of life, with people coming from far and wide to sample the delights to be had in this modern day Sodom. However, as the seven rode into the main street of Sparta this time, they could see no signs of life. Tumble weeds rolled across the empty streets and the wind that whistled through the buildings was the only thing that was moving in the entire town other than them. 

"What happened here?" Buck looked around at the empty windows and remembered when there were beautiful working girls leaning over every painted sill, beckoning customers to sample their pleasures. The restaurants were boarded up, the doors locked and the buildings abandoned. It was like a ghost town except things were neither dilapidated or worn with age. The paint was still fresh and it was easy to believe it was only less than two weeks ago, this was a place of entertainment and revelry.  

Chris felt his heart hardening inside his chest as he guessed what happened and wondered how soon Laurel made the decision to leave. Had she decided the night he had escaped or had she mulled it over first? In either case, it mattered little.

"She's gone." Chris said icily.

"Gone?" Berenson looked at him. "Are you telling me that in two weeks the lady simply left a most profitable enterprise?"

"One does not keep profit for very long if one does not know when it is time to leave." Ezra pointed out. If it were he in Laurel's shoes, aware that Chris Larabee would be coming after her, with bloody vengeance on his mind, he would disappear too.

"I'm sorry pard," Vin responded, genuinely sorry that Chris would not face his nemesis, even though in secret he was glad of that fact.  

Chris' scowled deepened as they continued through the town, each step closer towards the heart of Sparta more or less confirming what was obvious from the start, Laurel was gone. In going, she had shut Sparta down and removed any possible clue to those who might be inclined to come after her. In truth, Chris did not know why he was surprised even though he was terribly disappointed. He had wanted his vengeance so badly, he could almost taste it but he knew things between the woman who had sought to make him her consort was far from done. There would be another time and another place. Of that Chris had more faith than the sun rising and setting in the sky. 

The gunslinger studied Laurel's kingdom closely, since this was his first chance to see it. Laurel had allowed him the freedom to leave his cage when he had been her creature but little more than that. He had never even seen the outside of the Arena. His horse reached the tall structure that looked so much like a gladiatorial amphitheater of ancient times, it was positively eerie. However, in retrospect, Chris supposed he really ought not to be surprised since this was essentially what Laurel sought to create here. 

"Berenson," Chris asked as they came to a halt in front of the stadium and spent a few minutes admiring the awesome beauty of the structure as drenched in blood as this had been. "You and your men got any dynamite with you?" 

Berenson, not much older than Vin and seemed to be decent enough fellow by the standards of the seven, threw a quick glance at Chris. "Some, why?" 

"I may have some use for it." Chris replied, still staring at the building.

"Doing what?" The lieutenant questioned.

"I can guess." Nathan remarked with a little smile as the rest of his friends hid the smirk on their faces as the lieutenant began to understand.

"I'm bringing this obscenity down." Chris met his eyes with a patented Larabee glare that did more to express his feelings than any explanation was capable. "You got a problem with that?"

Even though the lieutenant had more than a dozen men at his disposal, he was not about to cross swords with the menace he was seeing in those eyes.

"Not a one." He replied. "Not a one."

* * *

Chris and Vin stepped into the Arena.

While Buck was busily setting the charges to reduce this place to a pile of rubble, the lieutenant had dispersed his men around the abandoned remains of Sparta, sifting through the discards to see if anything remained that would lead them to the present whereabouts of Laurel Chase. Flanked closely by Josiah, Nathan, Ezra and Vin as he entered the huge doors of the Arena, Chris could not help but deny that he felt ill at ease being in this place even though its seats were empty and none of the carnage committed here was visible. Still, it nonetheless reeked with the undeniable stench of death.

"You okay?" Vin found himself asking and Chris did not realise why until he discovered he was almost panting.

"Yeah," Chris nodded and crushed the feeling inside him ruthlessly. He was not giving her any more power than she already had over him.  

They progressed down the aisle until they reached the private box where he had first had chance to see the true purpose of the Arena.  His throat felt dry when he cast his gaze into the empty ring that had been the crucible for so much carnage. He noticed a small set of steps circling the high walls of the ring, taking the traveler who descended downward it a path to the centre stage. Chris found himself pulled down those narrow steps, closely followed by his friends who were not about to leave him alone for a minute in this somewhat haunted place. 

It seemed benign as he stepped into the ring, now that it was robbed of all its viewers and combatants. As the lawmen each made their own inspection of the place, Chris found himself staring up at the empty stands and for a moment, he was revisited with a memory so strong, it almost made him sick to the stomach. In the back of his mind, he could still hear them chanting his name. How they called him out and inspired the insatiable need in him to vent his inner demons. It quenched a thirst  he had not known existed until he had breached these walls and became its star attraction. 

"Memories?" A voice spoke out of the shadowy entrance taking the combatants from the ring to the passageway returning them to their cages when the fighting was done. 

Chris whirled around as they all did and found themselves staring at Laurel Chase. 

She stood before them, confident and unafraid, with the barest hint of a smile on her lips. Those who had not chanced to see her before this, discovered that the description of her beauty had not been an exaggeration. However, once the effect of that overpowering loveliness faded away, it was replaced with the notice that she was dressed rather oddly. Instead of the fine, expensive dresses Chris had seen her wear with such success, she was dressed in what appeared to be the uniform of a Union soldier.

"Laurel." Chris took a step towards her.

"Come any closer and Mr Tanner will die where he stands." She replied coolly, totally prepared for his reaction. 

Chris froze in his tracks. In fact, everyone except Vin did. Eyes immediately started searching the high walls of the stadium for the sniper that had to be there for Laurel's threat to be of any value. It was very soon discovered there was not merely one sniper but several, hidden very carefully with their barrels aimed directly at the ring. However, Chris was certain she had them aimed at only one target.

Chris withdrew and Laurel's smile grew wider, now that she was certain she had their attention as well as the upper hand for the moment at least. 

"So these are the rest of the Magnificent Seven." Laurel remarked, casting her gaze on the men before her. "How unfortunate Mr Wilmington and Mr Dunne are not present to complete the set. I should have like to have met them. I hear Mr Wilmington is quite the ladies man," she continued to prattle, oblivious to the fact that each man was thinking furiously at how they might break the stalemate they now found themselves in. "I would have like to have seen if his charms matches his reputation."

"You'll have your chance." Vin hissed. "You ain't getting out here." 

"Mr Tanner," Laurel glanced his way. "I wonder if you have any idea the death you have earned. Trust me by the end of this day, you'll have some idea."

"You don't have a lot of time Laurel," Chris declared, taking her attention away from Vin whom she was glaring at with naked hatred despite her manner of civility. "The army is here, just how long do you think your snipers are going to keep them from coming in here? You can't kill all of us."  

"Oh Chris," Laurel shook her head and let out a disappointed sigh. "You are a beautiful man and a wonderful lover, when your heart is in it which I assure you it was despite your claims to the contrary. You too Mr Tanner, utterly beautiful. There are women who dream of men like you two all their lives and never come quite close to attaining it. Unfortunately however, it does appear that such beauty is seldom coupled with the intelligence to match." 

"I could say the same for you Madam." Ezra found himself remarking.

"You do not interest me Mr Standish," Laurel looked at him indifferently. "However, believe me when I say this to you that my attention is not something you would desire." She paused a moment and then added. "And don't interrupt me again." 

"Talk is cheap," Chris retorted, determine to take her attention away from Ezra because when she made the threat, Chris honestly believed her. 

"Really?" Laurel looked at him again. "You think you are in control of this situation? You, stupid arrogant man. I control Sparta. I control every building; every person and every event that took place here. I controlled it as easily as I have controlled you and while you might be foolish enough to believe that your army friends might rein me in, you have entered this place with your lives at my sufferance. I remained to offer you my goodbyes Chris, not to give you delusions of grandeur. Being men does not make you equal to me. I walked out of that school in New York with this face and I have built an empire in pleasure. Sparta may not breathe after this day but there will be other places and I am not always required there. The Arena amused me for a time and now that amusement is over because I have found you." 

With a cold smile, Laurel said. "We are far from over." 

"Yes we are," Chris growled. "I will hunt you down and kill you myself!"  

"Let the games begin," she replied, not at all perturbed. "And Mr Tanner, if you are still with us. I invite you to join the hunt." 

"I ain't going anywhere," Vin returned her dark glare with one of his own. 

"That remains to be seen." With that she ran her hand through her hair.  

A shot fired and it was all that was needed. The seven went for their guns but the first shot was also the last shot with Laurel moving to the darkness of the entrance as soon as the trigger was pulled. 

"VIN!" Chris nearly screamed when he saw Vin Tanner sinking to his knees, blood gushing out of a bullet wound in the lower half of his abdomen.

For a moment the tracker almost seemed surprised as he gazed in strange wonder at the gaping wound in his belly, with blood all over his hands. Almost as if it were coming from a great distance, he heard Chris calling after him but Vin did not have the voice to answer, as he soon became preoccupied with waves upon waves of blinding pain. 

Chris crossed the space between them as the others closed in on Laurel when a second shot was fired, halting their progress with a reminder of the snipers that could reduce them all to the same state of Vin Tanner. Nathan immediately tossed his gun aside as he hurried to Chris' who was holding Vin in his arms, keeping him from collapsing into the dirt. 

"YOU BITCH!" Chris took a step towards her when Josiah shouted in respond.  

"Chris! Don't move!"  

Chris was breathing hard, unable to believe that it was possible to feel this kind of rage. She was standing before him, a smile of triumph on her face, looking as if she had just been dealt aces. "I will find you!" He warned impotently. "There ain't nowhere you can hide from me!"  

"Perhaps that is true," Laurel answered, unaffected by his rage. "However, the question right now is the one I am interested in seeing you answer. In fact, I think all your friends will be similarly enthused. What is more important to you Chris, revenge or the life of your friends?" 

Chris stared at her. For an instant, he almost did not understand but then it did not take Laurel long to enlighten him.  
"You can catch me Chris," Laurel said with a smile. "None of my snipers will shoot you unless you move to harm me directly. When the shooting starts, only your friends will die, not you. You can still come after me, you can still have your revenge but if you do that," her face hardened like granite. "Then you kiss the Magnificent Seven goodbye, starting with your precious Mr Tanner." 

 _Checkmate_.  

Chris could not believe it! She had him checkmated and she knew it! More than anything in the world he wanted to kill her but if he made one move towards her, the others were dead. This entire exercise of shooting Vin in cold blood was to see what his decision would be. The sheer magnitude of calculation behind a mind that could do this staggered him. He looked over his shoulder and saw Ezra and Josiah staring at him, wondering what he would do. Nathan was too busy to pause because the healer was working frantically to save Vin's life.

After what should have been a second but felt more like infinity, Chris swallowed the bitter taste in his mouth and raised his eyes to meet hers. "You're right, we ain't done yet. I will catch you, make no mistake on that. Just not today."

"I look forward to our next meeting," she answered, retrieving a familiar blue hat and coat from the darkness and wrapped it around herself. "Don't feel too badly Chris," Laurel smiled and this time it was not one of cold indifference or even vicious calculation, just a smile from one opponent to another. "I won the day but the war is just beginning."

With that she retreated into the darkness and was gone.

* * *

By the time the seven had recovered enough to begin a search since their first consideration had been to deal with Vin’s injuries, there was no sign of Laurel Chase or her snipers. No doubt, she escaped the same way she manage to move around Sparta without being noticed, by the disguise of the army uniform she had worn. In any case, it mattered little because Chris was almost certain their paths would cross again. The ominous warning she had made in her swan song was more than enough to convince him of that.

In the meantime, Nathan had his hands full attempting to keep Vin alive. The tracker had been shot in the stomach, an injury that promised a slow painful death had he been unable to get medical treatment. Vin was incoherent with pain as they made the frantic journey back to the nearest town, all the while Chris was gripped with the outrage of what had been done. He had suspected Laurel had something of a grudge against the tracker but not even he had suspected how deeply that went. According to Nathan, the bullet that had entered his body had done so with a specific target in mind. If the shooter’s aim had been accurate, it would have severed Vin’s spine and left him a cripple.

Chris was certain that had been Laurel’s intention.

Almost a day after they had confronted Laurel Chase, Chris and the rest of the seven found themselves back in the town of Broken Hill where Nathan had the aide of a real doctor to help perform the surgery that was necessary to save Vin’s life. Nathan did not have the skill to perform the massive undertaking of putting Vin’s insides back together again and while the healer did not come out and say it, Chris had the impression he was glad Alex was not here. Even though Nathan was confident that she could conduct the operation well enough, no wife ought to have that kind of responsibility over her husband’s life. 

As the waiting continued inside the lodging house they had taken refuge during their stay in Broken Hill, Chris found himself outside in the starlight, trying to catch his breath and dispel the overwhelming guilt borne out of his desire for vengeance. Somehow, he should have known that Laurel would use Vin to make her escape. After everything she had done to him, Chris had still underestimated her and that was almost a fatal mistake on his part for Vin. 

"Chris," JD emerged from inside the building. The youth had been despatched by his older companions to find the gunslinger following the doctor's emergence from the room where he had been tending to Vin.  

"Yeah?" Chris barely looked over his shoulder at JD, his eyes were seeing something out there in the night and JD had a very good instinct that he was probably searching the dark to see if Laurel was there. 

"The doctor says Vin is going to be all right," JD volunteered, aware of how badly Chris must feel about Vin’s injuries if what he had been told by the others was any indication of their confrontation with the lady.  

"Good," Chris answered neutrally. "I’ll be there in a minute." He added after a moment, telling JD he wished to be alone at this point. 

JD almost went but the younger man paused and found himself saying what was on his mind, throwing caution to the wind as he did so. "Chris, it ain’t your fault." JD felt someone ought to say it because it appeared as if Chris felt responsible for what had taken place even if none of it had been within his control.  

"Yes it is," Chris refused to be exonerated because inwardly, he knew the truth and this was not borne out of his usual need for self recrimination. "Vin said I wasn’t ready to face her and he was right, I wasn’t. I was so filled with hate and revenge I didn’t think and I walked straight into her trap." 

"We all walked in Chris," JD reminded Chris and sounding not at all like JD but a man in his own right, borne out from their cultivation of a tempestuous youth with dreams of glory in the West. "It wasn't just you. We all had her pegged for being gone." 

"Vin didn't," Chris insisted. "He didn't come out an say it but he knew she might still be around." 

"If you don't mind me saying so," JD found himself brave enough to speak his mind further since Chris had yet to shoot him dead. "You ain't exactly a hundred percent yet and after what she did to you, you have plenty of reason to want to go after her. Just as much we wanted to help you. You want to blame someone Chris, then blame all of us because we were after a lynching and she showed us just how dangerous wanting revenge can be." 

Chris found himself regarding JD with a hint of admiration, wondering when the boy had become a man and was extremely grateful that he had. "You're too young be thinking so straight." 

"I had good teachers." JD smiled. "Come on," he urged. "Nathan said that Vin might come out of it for awhile, I know he'd want to see you." 

Chris nodded in compliance and glanced into the night again, wondering where  _she_  was right at this moment.  

Whether or not she knew it, Laurel Chase had opened up Pandora's Box inside Chris Larabee and while he was more or less himself again, keeping ruthless control over his emotions as always, Chris knew he had also changed. Hate could consume some people, destroy them inside out but not Chris. Hate had never been that for him. He nourished it, fed it and then used it to be a stronger man and thanks to Laurel; he would damn near be invincible with the emotion he kept in reserve for her. 

"She was right," Chris looked at JD after he had stolen another quick glimpse of the moon overhead. "Things ain't done between us. Not by a long shot." 


	10. Status Quo

 

They remained in Broken Hill for another two days until Vin was fit to travel before the seven made their way home to Four Corners. As always, the journey from Sparta back to Four Corners was once again wrought with concern over one of their number, except this time it was not Chris but rather Vin around which their thoughts were centered. The tracker was still very weak and neither the doctor nor Nathan had at all been impressed that they were setting out off for home so quickly but Vin when he was conscious, would accept nothing less. Chris, who at this point, could refuse the tracker nothing, decided to grant his best friend's wish to be at home with his wife who was a healer in her own right.

So they began the trip for Four Corners again, leaving Sparta behind and revisited by all the same emotions of which relief seemed to be the most prevalent. Chris never wanted to see the place in his lifetime again even though his feelings on Laurel were another matter. His revenge burned hot inside him, needing to be satisfied but Vin's near death had brought some perspective to the situation. He would risk none of his friends in some obsessive quest to bring Laurel Chase to justice. This entire episode of his kidnapping and the addiction to the drug Ambrosia had showed him just how much he meant to them. They had never given up hope until they had found him and for that, Chris was profoundly grateful.  

Before all this had began, Chris told Vin just how much his friendship meant to the gunslinger, never realising those words were an ominous indication of how Vin would be required to prove the depth of that affection. Buck had told Chris about how it was Vin who had carried the rest of the seven through the days of his disappearance, ensuring no one gave up and left no stone uncovered as they continued their search. When they had found Chris, once again it was Vin who was to bear the brunt of his rage during the withdrawal stage of his restoration and listened to all the ugly words Chris used in order to escape.  

Chris had never felt more ashamed in his life as he rode back to Four Corners, ruminating on how he regarded Vin during all this and feeling especially mortified he had not given the tracker the credence Vin deserved when Vin suggested they let Laurel go. By forcing them to leave Four Corners so soon after bringing him home, Chris had not only led his friends to a trap but had also placed his need for vengeance above their lives and in doing so, almost succeeded in getting Vin killed. Chris was mortified by his lack of sensitivity to the friends who had forgiven him too easily he thought. 

Even though they assured him it was not necessary to make his apologies, Chris knew he had apologies to make. He had them to make not only to Vin and the other members of the seven but also to Alex whom he had hit when she tried to help him inside the corridors of his prison in Sparta. Not to mention Julia, whom he almost... 

Chris swallowed the bile in his throat because he could not even bring himself to say what he had almost done to Julia, except he was surprised Ezra had not come gunning for him. Lord knows if circumstances were different, he would not know if he would show that much restraint. Instead the gambler had worn that damnable poker face and replied he understood it was not Chris himself who had attempted to hurt Julia but the Ambrosia inside his veins. While Chris was grateful that Ezra had not made it any harder for him, the gunslinger did not feel completely absolved. Julia Pemberton had more or less said the same thing to him but Chris could not help but noticed the glimmer of apprehension in her emerald coloured eyes when she now looked at him. Chris had a feeling that Julia would never be able to regard him in quite the same way again. He could not fault her for that. His words to the lady had been cruel and his actions had been damn near criminal. It would have been worse if Vin had not made his timely arrival and prevented Chris from doing something unspeakable. 

Alex had been so busy trying to keep him alive while he went through his withdrawals that no apologies had been necessary. The lady merely shrugged her shoulders when he tried to make one and reitered it was the drug. Chris felt a surge of warmth for her remembering how hard Alex tried to convince him had been in a heightened state of dementia and he should not hold himself accountable for all his words. 

Still, Chris could not help but wonder how much of it had been the Ambrosia  and how much of it had been him. 

Laurel had told him there was darkness inside of him, one that had been there for as long as he could remember. While Chris denied it at the time, he could no longer say that her words were flights of fancy. All he had done in the last weeks had proven that there was indeed something inside him that waited for the opportunity to escape to wreak its savage worst upon all those around him. The Ambrosia had allowed it to escape but not aided its creation. That was the part of the whole situation that kept Chris wide awake during the nights following his return to normal life. He would spent it holding Mary in his arms while listening to the baby inside his crib, breathing a soft feathery breath and wondered how such darkness could exist in his soul when there was so much reason for living around him. 

He had his family back. Not just Sarah and Adam but a new entity in the form of a baby named Michael Vin Larabee. Chris looked at the child and remembered that visit from Darien Lambert so long ago, when Darien claimed his progeny in the future would save humankind from the oblivion of extinction. The truth was, it was more than just extinction the child had prevented, he had reached his tiny hand into his father's soul and reminded Chris at a time when it was most needed, that while he was capable of much violence, he was also capable of much life. Michael reminded him that he was a creature of two shades, of dark and light and the trick to getting through life was to walk the razor's edge between the both. Fortunately for him, Chris thought as he focussed his gaze on the friends before him, he had a lot to keep him balanced. 

Nudging his horse towards the wagon where Vin was presently resting at the back in a prone position, Chris dismounted onto the wooden floor of the buckboard before tethering his horse next to Peso's so that he could take a moment to talk. Nathan was up front at the reins while Ezra and Josiah were engaged in some interesting piece of debate usually pitting ethics and morality against each other. Buck, Chris noticed was as usual, tormenting JD with mischief and Chris found a little smile cross his face as he remembered his conversation with the boy a few nights ago. 

No, he corrected himself, JD was not a boy any more. He was a man.  

As Chris nestled himself next to Vin who was staring contemplatively at the sky and the landscape in no particular order, Chris could not blame him for taking in the view. It was a beautiful sunny day, with just a hint of cool in the air to indicate that summer was nearing its close. The air was filled with the scent of dried vegetation and there was just a faint whiff of soil in the mix to make one feel very much intoxicated by the moment. 

Vin was lying against the buckboard with his bedroll providing a soft cushioning effect against his back. His stomach was still bandaged tight and had a dressing that would require changing shortly, if the stain of blood through the white was any indication. However, Vin was not calling attention to it mostly because he hated being fussed over by anyone except Alex whenever he was sick. Chris had a feeling it was like that with all men. Lord knows, Mary being at his side, forcing that god awful chicken broth that was one of her mother's recipe (curse the woman wherever she was), down his throat was more incentive for him to get better than any tonic that Nathan and Alex might produce. 

"Hey there pard." Vin greeted Chris as the gunslinger sat down to get comfortable. His voice was a little strained but other than that, Vin seemed no worse for wear even though the bandage around him might say otherwise. 

"How you doing?" Chris asked as he reached into his dark coat and pulled out a piece of cheroot.  

"Better than I was before we went to Sparta." Vin changed position slightly since his rear end was starting to get a little numb. Moving brought an involuntary grimace to his face and he soon nestled back into position. 

"Take it easy," Chris reminded. "You ain't even close to mending yet." 

"If you were any kind of friend, you'd let me have that cheroot." He said with a little boy look of pleading that was about to convince Chris when suddenly they both heard Nathan singing out.

"Just because I ain't looking at you two, don't mean I don't know what's going on. Chris, don't even think about giving him that cheroot. He ain't fit to smoke just yet." Nathan said with enough edge in his voice to indicate he expected to be obeyed on this point and not even Chris Larabee was about to argue with Nathan when it came to the welfare of his patients. 

"Sorry pard," Chris shrugged his shoulders with a little smile.  

"Damn," Vin frowned and gave Nathan a dark look before turning back to Chris. "Its ain't gonna get any better when I go home." 

"It could have been worse." Chris remarked taking a deep breath of his cheroot and garnering an even darker look from Vin when he exhaled, deriving great pleasure from the act.  

"It could have been." Vin answered, his temper a little short and robbing him of his tact, such at it was under normal circumstances. "That's what happens when you don't listen to me." 

Chris supposed he had that coming and did not take too much offence at the remark. "That's true." Chris nodded somberly. "You were right," he said with a heavy sigh. "I wasn't ready for her and I let her get the better of me." 

"Well, you weren't the only one who was caught off guard, pard." Vin conceded, feeling a little guilty hearing Chris say that and aware that the gunslinger probably felt bad enough with out his having to rub salt into a wound almost as raw as the one he was wearing under his bandage. "She caught all us by surprise." 

"Maybe," Chris was not about to exonerate himself so quickly. "We might have seen things a little more clearly if I had been thinking straight and not with one thing on my mind." 

"Hell," the tracker looked at him with utter empathy. "After what she did to you, I wanted to kill her." 

Chris could very well believe it to and after all the unkindness that Vin had bore the brunt of during his withdrawal symptoms, Vin was almost as justified as he was in wanting some vengeance. "She ain't gonna be far away," Chris commented. "Now that I'm thinking a little straighter, I have a feeling she'll be around." 

Even though Vin's desire for vengeance might almost be equal to that of Chris, Vin could not say he liked the idea of having Laurel anywhere near Four Corners and in particular Alex. After all, it was Alex who invaded her private bastion and rendered her unconscious while they perpetrated Chris' rescue and Vin knew how Laurel reacted to things she took personally. He glanced at the bandage instinctively. 

"That ain't comforting." Vin answered. "She's insane. She's smart like Alex says but she's completely insane." 

"Yes she is," Chris nodded in agreement and then cleared his throat as he moved on to more delicate matters. Laurel Chase could keep. She would return at a later date no doubt, bringing chaos with her and this time, Chris would be ready for her since they would be on equal footing this time. Mary, Alex, Julia, Inez and all the other women in his circle at Four Corners had taught him that women could be just as formidable as men and Ella Gaines had showed him that they could be killers too. Laurel was a lesson all onto herself and what she had to teach Chris was not something he had yet to define. However, he knew that unlike any previous foe, the battle he fought with Laurel Chase would be one of the mind and not of the fastest draw. 

Taking a deep breath, Chris moved on to a much harder subject. It was not often he could dip into the emotions inside his heart and release them for others to hear. While it was permissible with Mary, it was all the more difficult when it came to the men he called his friends. The nature of male relationships made such disclosures difficult but considering what they had been through, Chris felt that it was necessary to make an exception. 

"Thank you Vin." Chris said quietly.

Vin raised his eyes to meet Chris. "What for?"

"You know what for." Chris remarked, unswerving in his gaze. "You didn't give up on me, not even when I was a goddamn bastard and saying things I swear to you I never meant. You've been my friend from that first day and I ain't never been sorry that you decided to come into my life. Letting you in was the first step to letting in a whole lot of other people, like Mary." 

Vin swallowed, finding it just as difficult as Chris to talk about emotions and how they felt about each other. "You're my friend," the tracker's eyes dropped to the wood on the wagon floor, smoothed by years of erosion and use. "First one I ever had really." His Adam's apple bobbed once again. "Before you, there was no one. No one who gave a damn whether I lived or died. It was...." he paused as he composed himself a moment before forcing himself to speak. "Lonely."

Chris could understand that. After Sarah and Adam had died, he had drifted from town to town, looking to die and unable to appreciate the new dawn that came with each day, wondering why he was still breathing when all he wanted was to be with them. Those few years had been hard enough but for Vin, it had been a lifetime of loneliness, of never belonging or being a part of something.

Vin had been surrounded by people in the state run home for boys he had been secreted after his mother had died and Chris knew that it was perfectly possible to be alone in a room full of people. From there, he had lived with the Indians for a time, learning their skills and while he was tolerated among their company, he was not one of them. Chris could picture Vin's life, the loneliness that must have been overwhelming until he came to Four Corners and found six men who would die for him and a woman who had proven time and time again she loved him.

"You don't ever have to worry about that again Vin," Chris said quietly. "You got a family here, not just the one you'll start with Alex one day but all of us." Chris hesitated for a moment as he made the revelation he and Mary discussed earlier and was now a done issue. "But I want you to be apart of  _my_  family too."  

"I'm too old to adopt." Vin flashed him a crooked smile and succeeded in having Chris lean over and swiping the top of his head with a mock slap.

"Actually, I meant that since we're naming the baby Michael Vin Larabee..." 

"Michael Vin?" Vin's eyes widened. "You're naming your boy after me?"

"No," Chris shook his head with a hint of sarcasm. "It was this other Vin I met down in Purgatory. Wouldn't know him though, real wild and woolly sort."

"Screw you Larabee."

"That'll teach you for asking the obvious. Of course we named him after you." Chris deadpanned. "Mary and I also talked it over and we want you and Alex to be Mikey's god parents."

"Mikey?" Vin looked at him.

"Yeah Mikey," he answered. "I've gotten used to calling him that. Besides, ten years from now, he'll probably hate it."

"Can you blame him?" 

"No," Chris said with a perfectly straight face. "But at least I ain't calling him Christopher Junior." The gunslinger retorted with a hint of annoyance as he remembered what his father used to call him and still did much to his embarrassment.

"Chris," Vin looked at him, deeply touched at his request. "I ain't never been anyone's godfather before but I reckon I could be one to your boy."

"Its gonna be a full time job," Chris pointed out and knew without doubt by the smile on Vin's face it was one responsibility that Vin would not mind at all.

"No kidding," the tracker said with a smirk, feeling for the first time as if things between himself and Chris were on their way to being mended. Not even Laurel Chase could stand between that.

"If he takes after you," Vin mused easing back into the saddle and letting the sun warm his face. "Its gonna be a career."

However Vin remained silent because keeping the younger Larabee safe was a duty that he did not mind at all. Not one bit.

Besides, like father like son.

 

 

**THE END**

 


End file.
